A storm cloud rumbles outside,
Its black shadow swirling inside,
Claiming the space where she was,
Fighting for my weary weak soul
Every day that suggests a smile
And every day that fills up with tears
Strings dull infinite black pearls
That twist around my rigid neck
Thoughts circle back to her again,
Asking, with no answers that come,
Why heaven could no longer wait,
Why it desired her fragile red beauty so
© Leonie Vorster 1989
