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Poetry

	Gert Strydom
	PROFILE About me Friends (13) Poetry (1888) Prose (37) Photography (5)

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Gert Strydom, 11 june 2013

Far too long (villanelle)

Although I had been hurt severely by love,
far too long I had been searching for you.
Far too long through this world I did rove,

but never did I want to remove
even a single moment even if we did argue.
Although I had been hurt severely by love,

now our love, our commitment does prove
its own value even if painful things you do.
Far too long through this world I did rove,

even if I sometimes do disapprove
still together we do continue.
although I had been hurt severely by love,

you do remain the one, who fits my life like a glove,
with whom happiness I want to pursue.
Far too long through this world I did rove,

before together we did move
and when I met you all of my wildest dreams came true,
although I had been hurt severely by love;
far too long through this world I did rove…

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Gert Strydom, 10 june 2013

Last night I could have sworn that I heard your name

Last night I could have sworn that I heard your name
in a song that the wind was singing
as past me in a cool breeze it came
and some of the branches of the trees were swinging

and it was as if it was softly whispering at times
of happy things, of other different climes
about the places where it had gone
and the wind blew on and on
and kept on blowing right into the new morn

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Gert Strydom, 10 june 2013

Out of the times of remembering

Out of the times of remembering
I will paint a word-painting of you
that tells the world how wonderful you are
that where others do despise me you are still trusting in me
when you do love my in my most wrenched times
and for this reason I will begin with everything that is beautiful,
with the depth and loveliness of our love
and nothing that will derogate or fabricate
will be in my words,
not even my own pain and fear,
only your sacrifices and how you build your own life around me
and only the most beautiful things from your spirit and soul
and that which really does matter will be in my words,
and the depths of your humanity I will paint.

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Gert Strydom, 10 june 2013

A yellow and a red weaver peck at porridge on the grass

A yellow and a red weaver pecks at porridge on the grass,
some sparrows gather twittering around the water bowl
and I cannot think about a more beautiful picture
when the air is ink blue and dew shines on the flowers
and it feels if right here man can reach to God,
as if nature is as it once was,
when even the sun-birds frolics around
and it feels as if the bees are beckoning me,
when a kind of serenity comes to the garden
and together you and I write a own story
when every rose and iris comes to perfection,
when there is something magical to each flower
and here and there one is snow white,
when doves coo in the chestnut tree,
when I do love you and your garden,
when a kind of youth comes to my days of age,
and morning-glories examine the sun open mouthed
where it hangs high in the bright blue.

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Gert Strydom, 7 june 2013

In the afternoon the light was blinding (rondine)

In the afternoon the light was blinding
the sun had a bright belligerence
and to it I had some indifference
as on the white beach I saw a strange thing.
I saw a girl every now and then watching,
there was no kind of interference
in the afternoon.

To a female friend she was whispering
and they both did bring some inference,
had a kind of modesty, a deference
but did I find them both very striking
in the afternoon.

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Gert Strydom, 7 june 2013

Threshing (wreathed quatrains)

With all the green corn stalks neatly cut off
in the old big loft the sweet smell of maize,
brings some grace and the blowing wind is soft,
oft the grass is still the colour of baize,

some cows graze, the threshing machine whines on,
its task is not done under a cobalt blue sky,
time does fly until the last stalks are gone,
hot like stone is the earth and hours pass by.

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Gert Strydom, 7 june 2013

The tractor

No ploughing could be done
without

the red Massy Ferguson
tractor

that broke right next to
the field

of hard brown-red earth
baking

in the hot summer sun
next to

the whispering big old
oak trees.

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Gert Strydom, 7 june 2013

Far too many places are now bereft (roundelay)

Far too many places are now bereft
of marches and streams, that was not left;
robbed of their wilderness, even the hills,
where man constructs and builds as he wills.

Iron electric pylons like naked scarecrows
are almost everywhere that one goes
with smoke, pollutants and technology’s ills;
where man constructs and builds as he wills.

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Gert Strydom, 6 june 2013

I have often wondered about the men that lead the world (Decastich)

I have often wondered about the men that lead the world
I have often wondered about grasping men,
I have wondered about the way that the world goes
under the people that were elected to lead the way
and about their desire for fortune and fame,
about Presidents that do not waver to tell a lie,
about leaders that sent soldiers off to war
and wondered if they do consider the consequences
or is there something evil that besets each great good man
a corruption that power does always bring?

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Gert Strydom, 6 june 2013

Hope (Decastich)

We live in a world where war, disasters and destruction
are continually harassing us as if destiny is pursuing us,
as if everything in this world is out of control,
as if the portals of hell are standing wide open
and sometimes we become ill without any chance of being healed
and sometimes we loose loved ones to death
and it feels as if we are living on the edge of the abyss
but still the hope remains that life will become better,
that deliverance will come with the new tomorrow
as if a happier future is only waiting on us.