My Life Was Dying Poem by Gert Strydom

(for my wife, Daleen)

My life was dying in such slow degrees
that at times it seemed like the weathered trees,
stripped with bareness while the winter did come,
everything about me seemed only gruesome
and it felt if I did only heartache know
but on a great morning the sun did earlier glow,

in the late afternoon the first rain of spring did flow
and somehow I realised that God do still His mercies bestow,
while gardening on the morning next the prayer meeting at our home
forced me to hold the dogs in check, seemed nothing but meddlesome,
but then you did walk into my life as if in answer to my entreaties
became my true love and brought to me the greatest memories.

© Gert Strydom