Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 9 december 2011

From this city I want to escape (Free verse Quatern)

From this city I want to flee,
to find a place of some solace,
not again I want to return,
where city lights sometimes blind people.

I still think about how it was,
from this city I want to flee,
I cannot fit in this anthill,
a bridge to escape, I must find.

The city makes me uneasy,
I want to wander on the beach,
from this city I want to flee,
I want to vanish by bus or train.

Now I splash in a city stream,
at times are in the open air,
about freedom I can just dream,
from this city I want to flee.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 12 december 2011

Enemy tracks (Quatern)

There are many tracks on the ground,
enemies could be anywhere,
the spoor does the tracker astound,
he looks carefully here and there.

To me the tracks look all the same,
there are many tracks on the ground,
I do not know from where they came,
how enemies are to be found.

To the tracker it is renowned,
the way that it is set, its line
there are many tracks on the ground,
to me looking almost as mine.

We drink water under a tree
find a booby trap tightly bound
that almost is disposing me,
there are many tracks on the ground.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 12 december 2011

Situation report on a reconnaissance expedition

We went to reconnoitre enemy positions
being dropped from very high by parachute
in a dark moonless night
and I couldn’t even see the stars
as I came down to the ground
and there wasn’t any sign of light
up to the horizon.

After landing we grouped together
following a compass
walked miles and miles north east
saw the rising sun
walked right through the day

and did not find any enemy,
found no activity or any sign of man
crossed some small rivers marked on the map

saw a lot of crocodiles, some hippopotamuses
came across a lion kill
where they lay snarling at us
and as hiking through the bush go
this was excellent
as we saw almost all of the big five first hand,
while moving between them
and came back alive
but in a strategic military sense
it was of no value.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 12 december 2011

Insertion (in answer to Pieter Strauss)

With the moon that is tonight missing
as if it has strayed somewhere
and the stars dimmed out
by dark clouds
and just now and then
a bolt of thunder
that hits bleak white downwards
I am let free from very high
and are almost a machine
that breathes through a mask
where a tank is attached on to my back
and from higher than the horizon
and with every enemy guard, guard-tower
radar station primed
against foreign penetration, intrusion
I fall hyper-quick, as if I am passing time
while life, the whole world
comes to a standstill around me
until I am mechanically reminded
that the ground is almost too near
and the parachute jerks open,
pulling me back into time
with the ground almost touching my boots.

[“1. rendezvous” by Pieter Strauss.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 13 december 2011

May God forever be praised

(after Abraham Ibn Ezra)

May God forever be praised,
although we do not comprehend
the science flowing from His hands,
that His words have the power to materialize

how He created everything
that we know about,
or still have got to discover
and although He is love

we do not really understand
or at times even know Him
and whoever see Him in His works
cannot deny that He exists

while everything in nature
to His glory continually sings,
of the great power
of his selfless love.

[Reference: “God Supreme” by Abraham Ibn Ezra.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 13 december 2011

If there is something more (in answer to Edgar Allan Poe) (Novelinee sequence)

If all we are, see or may deem to be
is smashed like drops of sand on the beach
while in nothing there is constancy,
continually for something more we reach.
where we play but trifle roles that are set,
if all of life is just but on a stage
then all things are just on chance a mere bet,
where destiny strikes with a sudden rage,
then for survival man does a war wage.

If to survive man does a war wage,
then any happiness is swept away,
man yearns for the divine in every age
while actually nothing is set to stay,
while we are just actors in a kind of dream
but I know and feel life is more than this,
that things come to much more than they do seem,
where we find meaning in the way life is,
with something more in every sweet kiss

If there is something more in a sweet kiss
than chemistry and passionate feeling,
if we find happiness in human bliss,
are not set to be constant away reeling,
then somehow something lives on, we are save,
even if but mere chance still does insist,
save from oblivion’s decimating wave,
even if we see nothing, as a atheist,
as in the hand of God man does exist.

[Reference: “A dream within a dream” by Edgar Allan Poe.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 13 december 2011

To me His presence is a mystery (Collins Sestet)

When havoc and disaster came my way
upon a tranquil sunny summer day
I had blamed God for being absent,
of my accusation He was innocent;
He is present in a world of iniquity
and to me His presence is a mystery.

I looked for God, Him I did not see,
His image, His presence eluded me
but I found His tracks everywhere,
in everything lovely His hand was there;
He is present in a world of iniquity
and to me His presence is a mystery

There was great beauty in a lone thrush
singing all the world to a holy hush,
the pattering rain brought along new birth
while He continually blessed the earth;
He is present in a world of iniquity
and to me His presence is a mystery.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 14 december 2011

In some fields of grass under the hills (sestina)

This afternoon the peaks throw a big shade
with the black cliffs shining up on the hills,
while we lay together in the long grass,
I look in your eyes that are amber-green
while under my head there is a small stone
and you smile at me like the prettiest lady.

I had once known another charming lady;
that part of my life is now left in shade,
bad churchmen were casting stone upon stone,
while I had to flee from them to the hills
to pastures were everything is green
to find the Lord in divine fields of grass.

Under your head there is a crown of grass
and your mother is a gracious, kind lady,
around us everything is lovely green
while we are still resting in the cool shade,
we are softly chatting about life’s hills,
about walls of very hard granite stone.

Your eyes are much brighter than emerald stone
while all of your words are softer than grass,
reaching higher and beyond all the hills,
the high mountain which is dangerous lady,
while from our pain nothing gives any shade,
nowhere is a place of rest that is green.

Your summer dress is lovely, is bright green,
suddenly all our ails have turned to stone
I follow you further; see your small shade,
I am seen as one that woos any lady,
we walk past some flowers growing in grass,
climbing up higher into the foothills.

Bright streams are splashing down some of the hills,
with water transparent, sometimes cold and green,
love and lust burns like in a youthful lady
while I at that moment feel cold as stone,
we notice a deer feeding on lone grass
while our garments lie under a tree’s shade.

Far into the hills you want love till dusk’s shade,
where you peep like some green moss from the grass,
are tossing me with a stone like no lady.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 14 december 2011

The first dragon (sestina)

They went to find a thing that belched fire
a killer, a dragon what could it be?
To defeat it, to win they did aspire,
to set the people from its terror free,
it was huge as it could never tire
and where it went, there was only agony.

Those brave humble men were of all fear free
were like a mighty force that did aspire
to make men godly, as t no man should be,
to snatch from that beast it’s devouring fire
and to bring to it just death and agony
and in this quest they would not tire.

Yet all of the great brave men do aspire
to in the unknown find knowledge free
to test skill against the beast and to tire
to measure if plans full of follies be,
later to chance, to fight using its fire,
even in using if there is only agony.

They wanted the truth of its power to be free,
free to use in destruction like the strange fire
that came from heaven that fell in agony
that has the capacity to even gods to tire,
they constructed weapons that should be
the main goal to which warriors do aspire.

It may that other men could easily tire
of this overwhelming quest whose worth could be
not lovely high things, to which to aspire,
nor a guiding light sparkling over the free
but quenching of life by its terrible fire,
with it only acts of death and agony.

Then like destiny, which doomed in agony,
like the first discoverers of divine secret fire,
the beast would rise and in raving anger be
really ruthless and from tricks it will not tire,
its intimate knowledge would not come free,
to seek power in which men as fools aspire.

In pride anything to be, finishing foes with fire
while endlessly to be free they do aspire
while men tire in wars only breeding agony.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 15 december 2011

Radiating you smile at me

Radiating you smile at me
as women from the age old existence,
cobalt blue it looks like a wide open day,
slowly but surely you climb into my heart.
Our eyes catch each other human upon human,
between things suddenly become silent
unspoken between us lies a wish
as we together do not waste any more time
love becomes between us a single kind of thing.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 15 december 2011

There is the smell of rain in the air (Novelinee)

There is the smell of fresh rain in the air,
the perfume of jasmine on the breeze
while you smile at me, beautiful and fair
and doves coo in the twilight in the trees.
Outside the rain pours like some babbling springs
that runs anywhere in small meandering streams,
our life and love is full of little things,
of bliss, joy and care, deeper than it seems
while you affect even my secret dreams.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 15 december 2011

False Bay (Collins sestet)

(after Matthew Arnold)

Tonight over the sea there are small lights,
Cape Town against Table Mountain lying bright
where it is flat against the evening sky
and in the distance a liner passes by
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.

The stream of life did into the sea go
with joy, grace and hope in its ebb and flow
but debris, broken pieces are washed ashore
with pollution caught in the breaking roar
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.

Stars sparkle and the light wind furls through your hair
while on the beach we are the only pair
and you swear to be true eternally,
a bright beacon in the darkness we see
while the surging spray breaks over False Bay,
forevermore on Africa waves toss and play.

[Reference: “Dover Beach” by Matthew Arnold.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 16 december 2011

To a Queen (in answer to Alfred Lord Tennyson) (pastiche)

(with apologies to Alfred Lord Tennyson)

Tempered, complicated – O you that bold
send armies from your office to roam the earth
spoiled by charms, power from birth
your deception has been told since the kings of old.

Victoria, - from your royal face,
from your lips to your brow
snobbishness did flow,
without grace, you treated my people base.

And should your weakness, be reported everywhere,
in gossip and jokes in your fallen empire that declines with time
then let this verse, this rhyme
tell of the worthlessness and how without care,

Then – your soldiers made mistakes,
and in a wild march to scorch the earth, women and children did fall
while you sat enthroned behind a palace-wall
while under trampling boots, canon fire the earth shakes –

Take, Madam, these accusations along,
for from your faults my people was buried in dust,
while Englishmen were heathen they could not trust,
your mindlessness, at a time flowed strong,

And as a ruler spoiling blood
you will have a price to pay in the last day!
May children of my nation’s children say:
“She robbed our parents from liberty, property and food.”

“Her court was impure, her life unclean;
God unleash your power against every vile purpose,
let Your eternal judgment in its reckoning close
against Victoria’s descendants, against the queen;”

“And to the men who at her councils met
who knew when to rape, pillage and take
let You of them a example make,
them who bounded freedom, abusing wider yet”

“By shaping unwanted, unjust decree after decree
which made the innocents blood spill
who exercised their own will
and forever cursed Victoria and they will be.”

[References: “To The Queen: Revered, beloved – O you that hold” by Alfred Lord Tennyson. This poem is written in remembrance of the twenty thousand (some figures are as high as thirty five thousand) innocent white Afrikaner women and children that died in British concentration camps in South Africa, after their farms and houses were scorched by the British in the Anglo-Boer war in South Africa, which includes a great grandmother of mine. For a clear picture of these atrocities read my epic poem “Through the eyes of a field coronet” which is based on the eyewitness account of field coronet (Captain) JJ Potgieter.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 16 december 2011

Commandant Gideon Scheepers [2]

Not only was he assassinated
as a ill man captured in the field
by a British firing squad

but was buried in the ground
in a grave unmarked
planted without a coffin,

buried like rubbish,
or rotting dead meat,
like weed
without anyone heeding
where they laid him down.

[References: The rank of Commandant is equivalent to that of Lieutenant Colonel. The heroic story of the Boer Commandant Gideon Scheepers during the second Anglo-Boer war that was captured while being ill in the veldt as a normal combatant, but treated like a rebel and shot by the British, who buried him in an unmarked hole in the ground.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 16 december 2011

Salmon van As

(after C. Louis Leipoldt)

On a night just as the moon is rising
a British officer comes by horse with a white flag
and the rifle barrels of the Boers follow him,
as they are on guard at the front post.

Evening after evening he comes
and sometimes rides past in a cloud of dust
where he is spying on their positions
and tries to lead them astray with his chattering.

With words that by now they know:
“No nation will win against us.
Surrender tonight,
as you have already lost the war.”

On a hillock Salmon van As is at the front post
and something creaks below him in the trees and bushes
where he is standing with his Mauser rifle at the ready
and he knows of the atrocities of this Englishman
where with a thunder clap he shoots at him.

Some black men run back to the British camp
to tell the story of the shot,
where a red headed major stamps his feet in anger
and swears to God to take revenge.

Convinced of his own innocence Salmon van As
stays openly on his own farm,
where he goes on with his life in Heidelberg
and just after the peace of Vereniging,
when it fits the British,
they insist on his arrest.

He is brought before a military court
where he is not given any chance to defend himself,
as probably he would have succeeded in his own defence
and the British officer says his final say.

At daylight the Lee Metford rifles of the British soldiers fire
and like Gideon Scheepers there’s a Boer that falls,
a Boer citizen is murdered by the British
and in the cliff a thorn tree on his grave still tells that story.

[Reference: “Salmon van As” by C. Louis Leipoldt.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 19 december 2011

The magic of His designs

(after William Cowper)

The magic of His designs
all around us we see,
the working of His divine skill
nature continually displays

and in mysterious ways
His unending love
works selflessly
falling for evermore

like showers from above
and even if we do not want to admit
that He exists and judge His works
by our own feeble sense

make statements by our science
we still do err in incompetence
while His works persist,
His amazing grace and love stays boundless.

[Reference: “Light Shining Out of Darkness” by William Cowper.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 19 december 2011

Glory to God (Curtal sonnet)

Glory to God, some early birds does sing
while in winter the icy snow does glow,
in summers the sun rise hot and lovely
while there is some pleasure in everything,
and with tranquillity the waters do flow
while all of nature then feels somewhat free

All things over time then begins to change
as if joy, is found everywhere with glee
and in this we do God’s presence know
although nothing is out of place or strange
as then all things has beauty.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 19 december 2011

Lord, You are the Captain of my soul (in answer to William Ernest Henley)

Even when the darkest darkness covers me
when no compass can find its magnetic pole,
when there is nothing at all that I can see
You still beacon me to draw my very soul.

In the striking of destiny and chance,
Your power is still here, is still about,
in the worst of any circumstance
You still care when I am really worn out.

Through the aging of many passing years
with You at my side, I am unafraid,
as in all happiness and all my tears
You are constantly coming to my aid.

Wherever my life goes, whatever is my destiny,
Your consistent love keeps making me whole
and leaves all my choices totally free
while You steer my life, are captaining my soul.

[Reference: “Invictus” or “Out of the night that covers me” by William Ernest Henley. Read my other poem titled “Invictus” and “The Soul’s Captain” by Orson F. Whitney for more replies to this poem by William Ernest Henley.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 20 december 2011

There was a dark night

There was a dark night
where I was waiting for you,
the hour stayed far, somewhat confusing
as you were carrying my name,
had gone to a lover
and I did feel the pain in my heart
and did know that you were lying
when I came upon the truth,
your eyes betrayed you, left only sorrow.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 20 december 2011

The night has come early

The night has come early,
the thunder hits with power
at my house against the hillock,
as if it is coming from God himself,
when you knock I am surprised,
see the lights of your car shining,
it is very rough outside
with rain against the windows,
you embrace me, take my hand.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 20 december 2011

The autumn is in the leaves

The autumn is in the leaves,
in the gestures of people,
when trees are already standing as skeletons,
the autumn is bringing pain
when the winter appears,
the stormy wind blows doors close
with spots of sun splashing down,
stripped trees are in their bark,
lonely I walk in the lane.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 21 december 2011

Some girls like roses or carnations

Some girls like roses or carnations
in bunches in glass vases,
others love marigolds
and sometimes one on a pillow
with a letter or card
speaks to a girls heart,
burning candles and dimmed lights
sometimes helps to set the scene
and soft soothing music has its magic too

but none are like you
who values everything
and your smile lights the night
like a rising sun
and baby any time with you
is a lot of fun.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 21 december 2011

Words from a husband to a wife (Envelope couplet sestets)

(after Brian Jones)

Spend your time with me until the night end
as we attend a party at the house of a friend
smile and talk to me as if I am someone else
laugh merrily at the jokes our host tells,
while you dance with me where the stairs bend,
spend your time with me until the night end.

Spend your time with me until the night end
smile coyly while a drink I recommend,
treat me like a stranger you have just met
while our eyes are just on each other set,
let your glance shy before mind descend,
spend your time with me until the night end.

Spend your time with me until the night end
even if our friends do not really comprehend
why we are different from our old stances
why we are romancing in all our glances
while like some strangers we together blend,
spend your time with me until the night end.

Spend your time with me until the night end
as if life on a moment do depend
while you act just like a brand new lover,
as if our feelings we did rediscover,
as if we met only on a godsend,
spend your time with me until the night end.

Spend your time with me until the night end,
friendly greet the old smiling reverend
while we proudly walk past to our dinner
as if we are just two love-struck sinners,
while our unfamiliarity we do pretend,
spend your time with me until the night end.

[Reference: “Husband to Wife: Party Going” by Brian Jones.]


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 21 december 2011

I do believe that love lasts forever (Tritina)

I do believe that love lasts forever
even if after death it starts again
to find someone that is very special,

although some days do not feel quite special,
feel as if life stretches out forever
as if I will not be happy again,

but sometimes someone quite new comes again
who with time does some things that are special,
who make memories that last forever,

will I forever love, again feel special?


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 22 december 2011

Carnations (Balassi stanza)

Carnations grow lovely,
perfect beauty I see
in vivid colours of white
red, pink, some are yellow
with loveliness they glow,
are usually quite bright,
they smell somewhat like cloves,
have purity of doves,
they are flowers drawing sight.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 22 december 2011

About a daisy (Balassi stanza)

She picked a white daisy,
drew off petals easy,
said he loves me or does not
watched the white flower,
scared to get it over,
wondered what she had got,
her tears gleamed like dew
and the answer she knew,
picked flowers for a pot.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 22 december 2011

Marigolds (Novelinee)

Like the morning glory you worship the sun
opening golden fold upon golden fold
following it from the time the day begun
as if that starry thing you do behold
longing for its shining white hot rays
as if watching while it is moving on
opening sunny day upon sunny day
and closing just as soon as it is gone
as if its love to you is the only one.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 23 december 2011

Now that the year is growing kind of old (Envelope couplet sestets)

Now that the year is growing kind of old
when the true story of Jesus we are told,
we are living up to a day of giving
while daily we hear joyful birds singing
as when they did that child once behold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.

Now that the year is growing kind of old
our Christian faith we do at times uphold
while to others we bring some happiness
like messengers of God we try to bless,
sing happy songs on each friendly threshold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.

Now that the year is growing kind of old
while some live sheltered in a stronghold
in a world of chaos there is tranquillity,
when in God we find some serenity,
in our own lives we act cheerful and bold,
now that the year is growing kind of old.

Now that the year is growing kind of old
in our lives God’s blessings are manifold,
while merrily bells do jingle and chime,
we tell of loving that goes past all time,
we celebrate Christmas in each household,
now that the year is growing kind of old.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 23 december 2011

Another kind of Christmas (Stave stanza sestets)

Female politicians act like they are gods
do not care about the poor or their odds,
spend millions on hotels and aeroplanes,
drive in their processions in traffic lanes,
they do not care about any other being,
about Christ or Christmas or anything.

Some innocent children in my country
will never be free from their poverty,
they look with inquisitive big brown eyes
at some shop windows were Christmas gifts lies,
do not know the blessings of receiving,
about Christ or Christmas or anything.

Some of them do not even have some food,
come from a impoverished neighbourhood
while they also do hear the Christmas bells,
are living in a daily kind of hell,
do not know the jolly songs people sing,
about Christ or Christmas or anything.


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Gert Strydom

Gert Strydom, 27 december 2011

Love alters not

(after William Shakespeare)

Let me state with all of humankind
as my witness, that love is more than bliss,
is much more than the drawing of a kiss,
it does no error or any change find,

it is true to the body, soul and mind,
in the simple things of each day it is
and all other allures it does dismiss,
much stronger than life, pass death it does bind,

burns with a kind of eternal hot flame
which wanders not within time, months or weeks,
its acts, its words continually does bloom,
in hardship it does not find any blame,
eternally sincerity it seeks,
it stays true, even at the gates of doom.

[Reference: “Sonnet 116 Let me to the marriage of true minds” by William Shakespeare.]


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Other poems: For now and for always, The temptation of being near to her, Your walking away is measured in watt, In the garden (ABECEDARIUM), Just for a moment it is there, There are people, Unknowing we may be living in a war zone, Holiday, I yearn for the secrets of nature (sonnet), At 52 the nuts of my country are stripped, A strange dream (triolet), The beach, the morning, Where star systems do disappear in the nought (sonnet), Come to my flower garden, Warriors of the civil service, This morning the sky glitters blue, You must not show any fear, My dear loving God, Sad tidings, Morning, Mirror image, The sun hangs orange red, Divorce V, Divorce IV (Espinela), Divorce III, Divorce II (cavatina), Divorce, Respite, At times we are only set on passing (American sonnet), The peach tree, The gardener, The old guitar (cavatina), Dear Lord God, Still life, Two sides to everything (cavatina), I have missed my country, The sardine run, He lies stretched out in the sun, Africa, There’s no other country, When death’s fingers do me touch, I wonder where is an untouched place that firmly does stand, You never came, I am afraid, The silent countdown, Without matter, Dare you character?, Once I wrote a kind of happy song (Orléans rondel prime), There is no other saviour, Alone we come into the world (for my mom on mother’s day), With hunger in your eyes, Please do forgive, Hoba West Meteor, When I do consider how my time is spent, I see him doing carpentry, When the two of us met, John Phillip, On Pretoria (Italian sonnet), Return, Cecil John Rhodes (Italian sonnet) (in answer to Rudyard Kipling), Afterwards, I walk in the veldt near to Majuba hillock, Vain are the words and deeds that are mine (Rubiyat sonnet), When I do find no place of peace (sonnet), Why I remember the Anglo-Boer war (John Dee sonnet), Lord, only in Your footsteps (Persian / Rubiyat quatrain), On a night, Far too quickly time rushes on (Persian /Rubiyat quatrain), Like any other person, She lives beautiful (sonnet), Where this world is but a grain of sand, On the day of my birth, The crucifixion of the Son of God, Today my heart is full of joy, A prayer (Sonnet), On my birthday, My heart has gone quite in me (Persian / Rubiyat quatrain), Come to me, Soldier: yesterday, At this place I have been before (sonnet), There had been a kind of loneliness, When the early the morning does begin (cavatina), Constantly I am astonished, When I hold you tight, Life is a gift, Bus trip at night, I have not seen the spark of life, Kamikaze, Lucifer at sunrise, The things in a town, When from me she is out of sight, How chilly like winter, Some times, I love you, Long Beach, As my eyes gaze into the dark night, I see her dancing gaily, Right against the morass, African September, A room in the past, The secret room, It had been a hell of spring with the sun hanging scorching, The marsh, For my darling, with New Year, The old year, Today people are not interested, South Africa is also my country, In this distant country, What fanciful lives we lead, As if they are beacons, You are my darling (sonnet), On Christmas, Last night I dreamt of you, Where are we now?, I had dreamt of you, At night the mind plays its tricks, Inside you and I dance, One Military Hospital, Something about a bird in a tree, While the year hangs skeleton, I gave my love to you, No other painting, Field of maize, The red arum lilies, Would my words, When the front door, At dusk, Child, Cry, Maybe 4, Maybe 3, Maybe 2, To be us, Photocopy machine, I do love Africa, While everything is turning brown outside, The crumbling man, My small Jack Russell dog, With self contempt I stand in the veldt, The fallen Cuban soldier, There is a time when night sneaks in, After the farm invasions in Zimbabwe, The small redbreast sings and dances, I love you, Walls, A child is a strange thing, Baby lies so fast asleep, It is a pitch-dark night, Hecuba, A pastor,

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