I may not be a king but you can be my castle
We’ll hold hands, now and forever after
I’ll read your letters and you can read mine
And we’ll live again the words that time has left behind
As our letters shaped a love as long as the Rhein
December 65 at Jo’burg railway station
The seed of a love in an alien nation,
From South West Africa with a nation to see
Where Siggi and Inge, and Lielo made three.
The week’s trip was over, on to Cape Town
Inge left with her mother, Siggi missed Inge around
So letters were sent, from Jo’burg to a nurse
Love lain dormant, growing through words
And in their beds they recite to each other
When they were young, as they became lovers
She reads out his letters and he reads out hers
A life retraced on a page of affectionate verse
Through pen and paper sent with a S.W.A.L.K.
When time and love were the only talk.
After two years of writing of breweries and clarinet
Siggi returned to Germany to the woman he met
A year later they married and then came two sons
The last signature written, as the letters were done.
And 50 years later, they hold hands in a bed
Reliving the lines that they heard in their head
Now with a voice that’s familiar, heard every day
King and Castle together holding words that say
“Sie ist meine Burg”
(For a certain MKF)