Madonna (New Version) Poem by Gert Strydom

I thanked the gods for you
and you were Madonna beautiful to me
as if something holy
radiated from your heart.

Your golden eyes
could look deep into my soul
and you could understand me
for who and what
I really am.

You could put your fingers
to strings and brushes
and the most beautiful words
could go out of your hands
and your sparkling voice
stays forever with me,
but Madonna,
you are gone.

Now I know that John Keats
and AG Visser
would have understood how it feels
when a princess
whom you tried to build a life with,
decides that she does not
like you, neverless love you
and I wonder
if there’s still a heart beating
Madonna, in your breast?

[References: La belle dame sans merci by John Keats, La belle dame sans merci by AG Visser, La belle dame sans merci by Gert Strydom and No red rose by Gert Strydom.]