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Gert Strydom, 15 march 2013
A place in the sun
(in answer to Daleen Enslin-Strydom)
There are moments in every day
when the small things
that are happening brings
a sense of belonging
makes my thoughts, my longings stray,
to you and like a child
in faith, in trust
you are my hope, the one
when all other things are gone.
Sometimes it’s difficult to find tranquillity
to be the one that you expect me to be
but our love has got wings that overreach
each new tomorrow
and it goes far beyond sorrow and pain
we are no longer just each to each
and something does remain
something that is really great and sublime
as if from the first moment in time
we were created to be together
as if hard wired into our souls
we are to be never alone.
From far beyond the sun, stars,
planets and galaxies beyond the know universe
our time and place in the sun was set;
before we had even met
you were destined to be my wife
and I have know that a time will come
as if our being together was written in stone.
[Reference: “A place in the sun” by Daleen Enslin-Strydom.]
Gert Strydom, 11 march 2013
Another winter (imagism)
Biting coldness grabs me with rain on this winter night -
where I walk along the promenade
and the wind is alive
and grabs on to me and grabs me again
like a impudent child
and bleak-white a lightning bolt crashes down
and I smell the explosion of that intimacy
while the red face of the moon bursts out of the sea,
disappears and are again present,
like a swimming champion
that breaks through the water with breaststroke
and for moments I stand to watch the water
which is black, wild and stormy
like a very angry woman
and I hear the moaning of the wind,
while the stars peer at me through the wind tossed clouds
with strange earnest faces.
Gert Strydom, 23 december 2011
When Christmas comes
When Christmas comes, while the flowers
here are blooming during summer,
I am astounded by the things
in the windows of the shops
and I am at times wondering
if everybody realizes what gift
You gave to the wide world,
with your coming as a insignificant human being
and I see people wishing each other well,
wishing a prosperous new year
and wonder if anybody still believes
in the salvation that You do bring,
if your crucifixion and the affliction of it
really pervades to humanity?
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.
Gert Strydom, 5 december 2011
As long as there is love (in answer to William Shakespeare)
Your lovely countenance is brighter
than that worn by the hot summer season,
your purity, your integrity is much whiter
than the lily that dwindles without reason.
At a time all lovely things withers away,
disintegrate, weather, with age are frail,
to change are set and nothing can stay,
even seasons change as if they ail,
over time rhyme, poetry is not in vogue,
death removes, memories go to oblivion
people are forgotten, are out of dialogue
and even the greatest with time are gone
but as long as there is love, constantly,
your sheer beauty, men will in women see.
[Reference: “Sonnet XVIII Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” by William Shakespeare.]
Gert Strydom, 9 january 2012
Reconnaissance Commando night patrol (Novelinee)
Where enemy soldiers in tents do lie
in the darkness of night, the early hours
slowly, carefully we scout we sneak by,
pass fences, armed patrols, guard towers
and where they in bliss unaware sleep
during the midnight’s sombre icy chill
we reconnoitre, sabotage and peep
while they lie dreaming under wool and twill
we do apply our very special skills.
Gert Strydom, 22 may 2012
To me you are the sparkle
To me you are the sparkle when the morning comes,
the innocence that is hidden in every young child,
your love, your presence comes
like a butterfly’s fluttering flight.
As if we know each other a thousand years,
you fit perfect and wonderful into my life.
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.]
Gert Strydom, 1 august 2012
I know the way that you do smile (Trijan refrain)
I know the way that you do smile,
the crinkles of your lips,
how your golden eyes sparkle awhile,
the movement of your hips;
and we might have been together
might have really known each other
and we might have
and we might have
been gone away with another
I know the way that you do smile,
we are inseparable
as if walking together mile by mile
as if unbreakable
as friend to friend we do belong
through many years we are strong
as friend to friend,
as friend to friend
through years we had been all along
I know the way that you do smile,
as the years do move on
and not a single thing can beguile
our love till time is gone
as if our lives are somehow twin,
each newer life we do begin
as if our lives,
as if our lives
will somehow suddenly meddle in.
Gert Strydom, 8 january 2013
Maybe I come from a time
Maybe I come from a time
where things were better and different
than they are now
and still I keep believing and do trust
that every person deserves an own place in the sun.
Even when some of my wife’s family members
have been mowed down by criminals in a robbery
I still want to keep believing
in our country, in our time
some kind of change will come,
that people will grant each other a own free existence,
that the Lord God walks at the front of the road
to make it even
and that this is a year of prosperity and hope.
Gert Strydom, 9 july 2012
When I stand at the end of our love
(for A)
I
When I stand at the end of our love
that disappears as if the flame
of destiny determines our feelings
then you trample my humanity to its depths.
When that which we see as holy does go lost
it makes my wonder,
if we can find a place somewhere
without any suspicion
where things are peaceful and clear
where we both are stripped from others,
where you wait faithful
with every word and deed a small witness
that our feelings did not change
in the glittering night full of stars.
II
In the glittering night full of stars
I saw you for moments
held you tightly
with passion that could not wait,
you were mine through a summer day
as if you eternally true
would only keep to me
your eyes shone pretty like the stars
but now you are not there anymore
to reach for me,
and our time is past and forever finished,
the song of our lost love has finally been sung
and in the evenings I see your eyes gaze,
in the evenings the memories flare up.
III
In the evenings the memories flare up
with shining eyes full of deep meaning,
that which was between us was no secret
and the light of it circled out to others
but another came into our lives
making that which was pure and noble
trampled, lost and full of woe,
twisted away from all beauty,
broken to many pieces
and with painful suspicion and prayer
I wanted to spare our love from destruction,
I wanted our relationship to be restored,
wanted to rescue the beauty in its fullness;
I had to accept your free will.
IV
I had to accept your free will
and the feelings that we had
was suddenly broken and finished,
even the way we did live
but now I know that love does sometimes fail,
even when it’s seen as being eternal,
a person has sometimes got to experience pain
and heartache that falls like a lightning bolt
while that which was between us did perish
and I had to go on another way
that shines up to the highest heavens,
which God Himself sets out for me
and the break-up was your decision;
I wonder from where our love did come?
V
I wonder from where our love did come,
the feelings that once was between us
about the glittering eyes that met each other,
the beauty that almost was something Godly?
Somewhere that fire was distinguished,
was scorched, burnt to ashes,
you were infected by love for someone else
while you did leave me pain
and I wonder how your blushing cheeks,
the glittering fire in your eyes
could so easily catch me,
could bewitch me,
when your heart could despise me,
while that which was between us now fades.
VI
While that which was between us now fades.
to only broken memories,
into my lost ponderings
the branches of our spring is now sawn off
and the beauty did perish like it did please you,
with heartache that goes to the depths of the soul
and sometimes it feels as if this sadness goes wider,
as if these feelings go to other horizons
and the pain is like a falling drop
that in water circles out wider
and later the surface is without a crease
as it goes into oblivion
but memories do tell
you did once love me passionately.
VII
You did once love me passionately
with love in your eyes,
fire and electricity in every touch,
with the glory of rainbows
and now there is just scorn in your gaze
while I am a stranger,
while you are lost in the traps of life
and now you are wild like an animal
that preys and mangles and set selfish claims,
like a cat from hell that slyly steals upon me,
as if my love and tenderness does not count
as you sneak nearer with anger and destruction
but still life goes on at its time
when I stand at the end of our love
Gert Strydom, 20 september 2012
The dark night
The dark night
wants to enclose everything with her cloak,
the dark night
bewitches the moon that waits on her
to join her shining yellow gold
and jollily people come home from
the dark night
Gert Strydom, 11 january 2013
Where we stand at the beginning of a new year
Sometimes we want to go back to a shed in Bethlehem
when we are at the beginning of a new year
and we long to a time and day
where things are different, but life goes on
and in the here and now we are caught,
sometimes full of happiness and at other times afraid
when peace and joy are almost within reach
when hope, new promises and better days almost hang on the horizon
and still He walks like long ago in Nazareth in advance,
while He beacons the way arrow straight
where sometimes we see Him fleetingly
as if He is waiting on us to catch up
but we remain afraid of the coming times
and sometimes loose our view of Him.
Gert Strydom, 4 july 2012
An ibis screeched outside in the garden
An ibis screeched outside
in the garden
suddenly slapped its big bronze-brown wings
and touched
by the frenzy you turned around,
without a word
pulled me deep into your arms,
suddenly you covered my face with kisses.
Gert Strydom, 30 october 2013
At church square he stands
At church square he stands just in front of the steps
and the statue of old uncle Paul
with a guitar in his hand
in a torn dirty jean
and the wind flutters the old washed-out shirt
of the curly head blonde singer
and he looks dumbfounded.
He notices people walking past
to offices, busses and cars
(and some of them are chatting)
and only a few does notice him,
leave silver
and even a bank note in his hat.
In his memories he goes back
to a time with food in the house
and his mother and father that did love each other,
to a time when life was still simple and free
and his eyes catch a bolt of lightning
that flashes blue-white in an open sky
and he wonders if it is later going to rain
while he plays and sings a sad song.
Gert Strydom, 14 february 2014
The windows was closed behind the curtains
The windows was closed behind the curtains
and shut out was the world, the night and the breeze
as if you and I was locked in
away from all heartache, pain and sin
and our loving did begin
with passion and a certain kind of ease
and of your love I was certain
while I did cling to you.
It was as if all good things were coming true,
as if all evil and everything that brought ill
had to wait until
out time together was spent
Gert Strydom, 14 march 2013
When the night sneaks near
When the night sneaks near
and suddenly comes almost unexpectedly
as if it’s a visitor
then you come and knock on my heart,
then you become the nearest star
when you steal the light from the moon
and it’s in your arms that I lay,
where I find my rest and peace
until the sunlight surprises us.
Gert Strydom, 28 march 2013
There is a place where everything comes together
There is a place where everything comes together,
where life comes to a kind of crossing point
where joy, pleasure and deep anguish
even every crisis does get an answer,
where the blood of God covers sin,
where man is not being forced to believe
but have got a own choice,
and the selfless love of God does comes free
and here where our earth
by our own choice has gone to tatters,
we that are mortal live like gods
until everything that is living wants to avoid us
and we are never without our own will
but in all of this we do loose God.
Gert Strydom, 8 february 2013
As the sun rises
While the sun rises and things
have shadows found,
so gently and by itself
love binds you and me
comes with a own sincerity
and brings joy, pain and bliss
while in integrity
you and I find how love really is.
Gert Strydom, 8 march 2013
Our love that was lost
Our love that was lost
has been again found,
but at a terrible cost
heartache drove me into the ground.
Our garden is again blossoming
while in love we carefully plant
kisses and caresses,
swear to each other to be true
and somehow I forever new
that this day of happiness would come,
even in the darkest night
dreamt of you.
Gert Strydom, 21 february 2013
I have to escape from the city’s roaring din
I have to escape from the city’s roaring din,
from the continuous rushing of hasty feet,
to a place of tranquillity that I do adore
where the breaking blue sea is rushing in,
far away from the crowded busy street
at the shelter of a snow-white pure shore.
Gert Strydom, 7 march 2013
Elementary thoughts
Humanly we leave words on paper,
while we try to determine the language
of Him who is the core of the Bible story.
*
We take things consisting out of flesh and blood,
that has got living energy, want to take the elements out,
while we search for the code of life in mortal material.
*
With our mental capacity we are valued equal
to animals that mutate
while the Bible teaches us about a creation story.
*
We think that we know the figure road of the universe,
compose theories that declare things in space
while amazed we do look at the great works of God.
*
Three dimensional we see things,
with length, breadth and depth in which things do fit,
while immaterial we do grope at the boundaries of love.
Gert Strydom, 1 march 2013
Everything else did cease (Berryian Poem)
In the sheer darkness, of a moonless night
in each other, we blended did not bother
to switch on, to find any source of light
our sighs, our moans we did not smother
all of our thoughts, our deeds were focused on delight.
Our love, our existence had a kind of blurring design
as if every strive, all the things that we held to life
in as single moment, we could find and refine
as if every passion, every kind of drive
were no longer separate, no longer only yours and mine.
We were living out, our endless dreams
love we did portray, in everything we did say
life was somehow not, as it usually seems
while we did kiss, romance and play
with our fantasies, moans and happy screams
while we searched, yearned for quick release
in a sheer moment, acted and did pretend
were searching happiness, some kind of peace
a kind of tranquility, serenity without an end
as if caught in each other, everything else did cease.
Gert Strydom, 14 march 2013
I need you
I need you,
I need you to think of me,
and in the darkness
I want to see your big shining eyes,
I want to feel your heart beating in your chest,
I want to quench my thirst of you,
I want to hear the tinkle of your laughter,
I want to feel you when we lay spooned together
and I do need you
to love me without any restraint.
Gert Strydom, 4 march 2013
There is something closing in this winter
(after Ernst van Heerden)
There is something closing in this winter
that suddenly appears
something sad, merciless, something not earned
which in each fallen leave, dead flower
carries death as if everything living
in a way is now handed over
as if customs, hope, convictions
are shredded in the coming darkness.
There are thunderbolts descending
and drawing blue-white lines
as if the Godly voice once again attempts
to awake everything
while any kind of sheltering
is swept away by the one natural disaster after the other
and man’s technological wonders are in vain
while the planet is busy changing
and manmade destruction is spreading throughout nature;
radioactive radiation, pollution and earthly heating
has a impact on everything that lives and animals and man begins to suffer
while extinction circles out wider and wider.
[Reference: Droë somer (Dry summer) by Ernst van Heerden.]
Gert Strydom, 13 march 2013
Seasons of life
I. Far too rapid (rondelet)
Far too rapid
the long hot summer days sweep past
Far too rapid
love turns to something insipid
and it’s as if spring cannot last
as life does end when days seems vast;
far too rapid...
II. There is a secret power (triolet)
There is a secret power
that pours down with the summer rain
and something special in every shower
There is a secret power
when flowers grow to loveliness in every bower
and with love their impressions do remain
There is a secret power
that pours down with the summer rain
III. Disablement
The garden is reflected in the bright window glass
while the summer rain is splashing down
and flowers swish to and thro, point upward
but they are gone in winter and in summer do reappear.
In this way you find a own kind of disablement
when it seems that a relationship only brings a kind of evil
as if love also at a time does reappear
as if it perishes in winter and in summer is bountiful again.
IV. While in seed hidden lies life’s awakening might (Rondel Prime)
When the irises flower purple, blue and white
early in the month of April
and they bloom lovely before the winter chill
then there is something special to each day and night
when the last heat is still in the sun’s light
before winter stretches out its hand over the dale and hill.
When the irises flower purple, blue and white
early in the month of April
then the early autumn is a colourful sight
as falling leaves does the countryside fill
before winter comes as it will
while in seed hidden lies life’s awakening might
when the irises flower purple, blue and white
early in the month of April
V. In winter
Stripped trees are each a mere skeleton
as if they are separated from each other
and starkly alone with branch
that reaches like fingers up to the heaven
while a strong wind devours the leaves,
lurching them away and spreading them everywhere
and still every tree remain near to each other
where you see them etched against the rising sun.
Sleep softly my darling
while the winter wind sings outside,
tries to come in like a wild animal,
as it rattles the windows of the entire house.
Lie cosily and in easy in our bed
while the rain sieves down
and the sun is stole
as if it’s lost for the whole of winter
and when the smell of new life
spreads softly through everything
and our hearts do jump with joy
under the anaesthetic of love
and I look to where your hair is spread out
like a dashing mane
with peace written over your entire face
[Remark: Please note that in the Northern and Southern hemispheres of earth the seasons are opposite from each other.]
Gert Strydom, 12 march 2013
I see a small shack
I see a small shack
with pumpkins and rock
on the tinplate roof
to keep it in place.
There’s fog hanging over the marsh
and the croaking of frogs
comes forth like a choir.
I smell rain
that suddenly is falling on the outside
and the smell rises from the red brown dust,
and I see thunderbolts
drawing blue lines
and I am well sheltered
against wind and rain
and around me
the maize fields are green
and I have found my own little Eden.
Gert Strydom, 12 march 2013
Strike of dustbin men
At the gate to the street
there are dustbins
and rubbish bags heaped up
and you have
to walk on the tar road
in order to pass
and it grieves me
that the municipality
now still cannot get this sorted out.
In town the rioters
pass under police escort
and rubbish is being dumped into the street
as if we are living
in the middle of a rubbish dump.
I have to swerve out
to avoid the rubbish
and the rioters are singing in revolt
and scream and shout jeering
and I see them throwing branches
and small trees
into the traffic
as if they have the right
to cause damage
and see the police
still keeping their distance.
Gert Strydom, 12 march 2013
He retched and almost choked in it
He retched and almost choked in it
and as the stinking bile
hit his throat
the dizziness of one too many whiskey’s
hit the mark
and he collapsed against
the chest of drawers.
His wife with her cold calculating eyes
reminded him of a dead fish
with a heart of cold stone
with lips pressed tightly together,
but there was something in the stare,
something that pierced him
and reminded him of the disgust
welling up in his spirit,
and erect she stood rocking the child
her nose inch up, as if he was below her
in each and every way
and anger gave power to his hands,
jerking a drawer out
he hurled it with great force
splintering the wood
against her head.
Like a animal that had its revenge
he was turning away
when out of the corner of his eye
he saw red blood
dripping from the forehead of his wife.
Drop by drop fell
on the baby boy’s shining hair
soaking through to the child’s scalp
and in fascination he looked on.
Gert Strydom, 6 march 2013
Prayer
(after Ernst van Heerden)
Paint every single word
like Your flowers
that grows wild in the veldt,
let my poems sound
like the Messiah of Handel,
like angels singing about your glory,
translate my words,
so that others can see the world
through my eyes, can feel what I do experience,
safeguard me against criminals
that constantly sneaks around, against murderers
that destroys without a conscience
deliver me from a government which is set for only its own interests,
from creditors, door-to-door salesmen,
vagrants, friends who do not know me in the bitter years,
forgive me for the sin
that I commit knowing and unknowing,
for the way that I sometimes act with my fellow-men
and please do give me Your insight and Your light
which brings truth to darkness,
a circle of friends which goes wider and wider
let Your hand fold around me like a fortress.
[Reference: Bede (Prayer) by Ernst van Heerden.]
Gert Strydom, 8 march 2013
For a while the autumn sun hovered
For a while the autumn sun
hovered like a fire ball
in the night sky
and the last
of summer’s heat
was still here.
Like leaves on a huge tree
the stars appeared on by one
filling the night sky
and amber lights started to glow
in the street and the evening’s serenity
unfolded like a big blanket
spreading out with the night.
Crickets started to shriek
and frogs started croaking
and a bright yellow moon
lit up the sky
and this night
there is only you and I
and its wonderful to be together.
Gert Strydom, 17 may 2013
Shaking like a immature child
Outside a swarm of doves peck yellow maize,
my heart gallops
along the dusty roads
of the lower town
and shaking like a immature child I am searching
where cars come to a halt
for you who are rolling away like a large marble
and when we are apart I do feel unsettled.
Gert Strydom, 19 march 2013
The moon rose like a pirate
The moon rose like a pirate
with one bloody eye
and far away in the sky
a star shell glittered the light of day.
Like ghosts with only minute lights burning
our armoured cars crept
into the death dark night
until someone spotted a enemy tank
and then some more
and gun after gun flashed alive
sending their messengers
into the dark.
Gert Strydom, 17 may 2013
You suddenly walked into my life
During my whole life, for many years,
I have been waiting on you
and then suddenly you walked into my life.
I do remember
that it was unexpected when I noticed you
and now suddenly
I do swear before the heaven and hell
that our love is much more than just a game.
Gert Strydom, 21 may 2013
Vision
Unfortunately visions are sometimes false
and still Michael stands against Lucifer
and like everyone knows
everything is measured up
in the battle between light and darkness
and still Gabriel is the envoy of God,
while Lucifer remains the dragon, the snake,
the angel that had fallen to the other side,
the one who wants to drag the whole world along with him.
Let people believe falsely
that Lucifer is the light bearer
and the redeemer of the world
and that he brings knowledge
and that people will become gods.
Let the son of the dawn believe
that he can resist any fire,
that he can win against an omnipotent God
and let people unknowingly
pray to the sun and moon
while my God sits in judgement
and will be bringing a fire
that even devours demons.
Still His love is unlimited
and stretches out wider than His whole universe
while forever His words remain true,
as my God is the only true light
that brings brightness
in a world that is apostate and dark.
Gert Strydom, 25 april 2013
On a sunny summer Sunday (villanelle)
(after Kris Kristofferson)
On a sunny summer Sunday
when there is nowhere that I do belong
life seems lonelier than on any other day
and while other people are happy and gay
it’s just another day that comes along.
On a sunny summer Sunday
while outside the kids do gambol and play,
for some kind of companionship I do constantly long,
(life seems lonelier than on any other day)
and I have lost my faith somewhere along the way,
while hour after hour the lonesomeness gets strong
On a sunny summer Sunday
none of my heartaches and memories does go away
and on the street I am only one among the throng,
(life seems lonelier than on any other day),
all of my thoughts do yesterday portray
and something tells me that I have gone too far wrong,
On a sunny summer Sunday
life seems lonelier than on any other day.
[Reference: “Sunday morning coming down” by Kris Kristofferson.]
Gert Strydom, 24 april 2013
Remind me
Remind me about how it once was
when we were newly in love,
about how neatly our lives fitted into each other’s
before the time when the hurting did begin.
Tell me about all the old stories and tales
that with time still does linger with me,
about fairies, dwarfs and angels
and a God that endlessly does love,
about dreams of travelling to distant countries
and some things you can even fabricate
before everything that is precious
is lost with the approach of time
and sometimes in this old world I feel as if I am lost
when my heart is constantly full of pain.
Gert Strydom, 30 may 2013
On some South African Afrikaans published poets (Catena Rondo)
(after Roy Campbell)
They praise there own elitist workmanship
then write a poem over and over again
until only their tinkered out words remain,
they praise there own elitist workmanship
then write a poem over and over again,
struggle along for more than sixty times,
abandon all love and poetics that rhymes,
then write a poem over and over again
struggle along for more than sixty times,
they despise a poet whose words do flow
while they struggle to complete every row,
struggle along for more than sixty times
they despise a poet whose words do flow
says that he types faster than they can write
does not even know the very day from night;
they despise a poet whose words do flow
says that he types faster than they can write
while the very words of other poets they copy,
are sheltered, from the rest of humanity,
says that he types faster than they can write
while the very words of other poets they copy,
they are fishes swimming in the tiniest pond,
are scared of the great world lying beyond;
while the very words of other poets they copy
they are fishes swimming in the tiniest pond,
their work is without any kind of profundity
and sometimes on them I have a kind of pity,
they are fishes swimming in the tiniest pond,
their work is without any kind of profundity,
they praise there own elitist workmanship,
they want others them as gods to worship,
their work is without any kind of profundity,
they praise there own elitist workmanship
then write a poem over and over again
until only their tinkered out words remain,
they praise there own elitist workmanship.
[References: “On some South African novelists” and “On the same” by Roy Campbell.]
Gert Strydom, 13 may 2013
The light of day you are to me
The light of day you are to me
and sometimes to eternity
our love goes strong
as if together we do constantly belong
and I try to love as well as I can,
with the feelings of a man
as perfect as the Lord can let it be
even when we live in a world of inequity.
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.
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
Gert Strydom, 20 june 2013
If we could bend the hour-work back
If we could bend the hour-work back
could make events, deeds and words undone
then this could perhaps have been a better world
and everything would have been timeless and reversible
and heartache and pain would have been able to be bended right
and it would have been possible to create a heaven on earth
but we are caught to the thing
that makes everything older,
that bends our lives
to be trivial and but mortal.
Gert Strydom, 5 april 2013
A bush of roses
So beautiful in the hand of a man in love
matchless in a vase, on the suit of a bridegroom
when a message of love is conveyed
and later they are given in mourning
when the coffin descends into the grave
or are withered, dried out, crumbling
when a bush of rose have no more meaning
and with the fragrance and colour fading
roses go straight to the rubbish bin.
Gert Strydom, 4 april 2013
Old man on a bicycle
Out of the mist and rain along the old road
down the slope of a small mountain pass
an old man rides with his bicycle to town
with a plastic bag in which bottles tingle
each time that he treads on the pedal
while the sun breaks through
the clouds every now and then,
comes over the edge
of the Outeniquq Mountains.
Gert Strydom, 28 june 2013
A nightmare or what? (Sonnetina Tre)
Sometimes dreams are awful and not nice
and beings that are not human or of man
linger wherever they can
and they bring fear when they do not entice
and fill our dreams with the most awful things
as they are present doing their evil throughout the night
and in the darkness I had struggled up to the daylight
saw a sinister being with black folded wings
while time and again I bid the devil back to hell
as I was frightened in my body’s fragile shell
Gert Strydom, 4 july 2013
This morning
This morning like every other one
you touch here and there in your preparations
and outside a myriad of sparrows fly past
when you put on the light and sleepy I open my eyes.
After a hot bath you comb your long hair
and you blush your cheeks and your lips get a bit of red
and in your bath water the tiredness of my body disappears
and to me even without makeup you are lovely.
Gert Strydom, 19 march 2013
He came from a fissure
He came from a fissure
in the brick wall,
a small creature
with a open mouth
and forked tongue,
moving its eyelids
and scales gleaming
in the early morning air.
His blue head caught my eye
where he laid in the sun
as if trying to catch the first
hot rays
and when I grabbed for him
I was left
with the twisting tail in my hand
and the rock-lizard disappeared
back from where he came.
Gert Strydom, 8 february 2013
When you stop your last kiss
When you stop your last kiss,
while we spend moments in bliss
trembling will our hands be
at moments such as this.
In the depths of your eyes I will see
a type of sweet tranquillity
and I do wonder if moments can be
again like this for you and me?
Gert Strydom, 22 february 2013
If everything that I do dream
If everything that I do dream
blows away to be nothing
then life devours me
and against destiny I am half-blinded;
in my body, soul and spirit a man
but in my heart I stay a child
that still does hope and trust on Your salvation
while I do try to keep myself on the right way.
Gert Strydom, 21 february 2013
Daily the sands of time to the end do run
Daily the sands of time to the end do run
as was destined, designed when the world begun,
lightning bolts flash down with the pouring rain
while we continually live in a world of pain
and we grow older as each day passes by
while out of our reach eternity does fly.
We live and love and reach to God above
or in rebellion some do constantly rove,
we struggle for what is right and pure light,
while others wander on ways of the night
while almost eternally the battle rages on
and in our lives the conflict is not done
between good and evil and truth and lie
until the very day whereupon we die.
Gert Strydom, 7 february 2013
Patient
Will an ambulance come and fetch him today,
to take him away to the hospital
where everything is different and smells of iodine
where they will radiate him once more?
Will he free from the treatment of radium
see the sun splash through an open window,
will he be allowed to eat a piece of stake
that was prepared medium, to his taste,
before his health does totally fail,
will he have the chance to notice weavers on the branches outside
with someone serving him tea or coffee?
Or will his wife’s voice clap like thunder
when he nears the end of his life
and force him to the cancer ward?
Gert Strydom, 1 august 2013
In that night
In that night we learned
what pain and joy is
and silently we lay in each other’s arms
in the darkness,
until the new day burnt the bright blue open
we were missing
as if we did exist in every moment
and were caught and trapped in each other.
Gert Strydom, 20 february 2013
The bit of time (Rondelet)
The bit of time
that together we both do spend,
the bit of time
still have some reason and some rhyme
as our love lasts and do not end,
it is godsend and it does bend
the bit of time.
Gert Strydom, 7 february 2013
Hospitals
I am amazed
that a hospital
stays a place of hope and despair,
where people come into life
and come to the end of their lives,
where they kiss each other
in pure joy
or where tears of regret, of pain
stream unstoppable down cheeks
and still it stays a place of hope
that life will again come right,
as if doctors have a kind of capability
as if the hand of God
at times are resting on hospitals
and as if He is always somewhere present.
Gert Strydom, 7 february 2013
To silence
At a hospital bed there are people praying
while they sit on hard benches like those that are harassed
and a pleasant little girl lies unconscious and soundless,
with her face behind a white mask of pain.
There are drops flowing into an intravenous apparatus, drop upon drop,
a monitor measuring her heartbeat constantly
and this picture I cannot forget,
as I see her frolicking past in my thoughts
with blue eyes that laugh full of joy,
like a ray of sun on each new morning,
as a picture of energy
and now she has gone to silence as if death is waiting.
Gert Strydom, 1 march 2013
Totally alone on Clifton’s beach
Late at night while darkness was everywhere
the horn of a ship bellowed far away
in a sad sound that hanged on the waves
and now in the early morning we walk
totally alone on Clifton’s beach,
find here and there beautiful shells,
see waves curl and break,
hear some seagulls screeching
while water splashes foaming over our feet
where like children we draw our names in hearts
on the wet sand and we notice
the ocean were it stretches into endlessness,
when the streaming water
washes away every sign of our presence,
as we splash and go laughing, teasing much deeper
and under the hot sun that hangs on a cobalt sky
we are lingering for long moments,
are caught in our own world
and I wonder how to make this moment last forever
as it’s almost matchless
when our lips do find each others
and you embrace me with your hair
blown wildly by the wind,
while the sun blinds us.
Gert Strydom, 18 february 2013
Give big power
If like Roy Campbell
I could let thunder
flame red out of my words
and with truth
striking like a cobra
could paralyse the guilty ones
no baboon would have to salute
the rising moon
or Shaka would not have to rise
from the dead,
as my words would show direction
with magical power of their own.
Let every thing that I write
not only struck the mark,
but be the conscience
of this country
and stay behind
as a part of me
and let the ones that read my poems
be swept along
into a own world
and give big power
to the words that I leave behind,
that with time
my words become exceptional.
{References: Far be the bookish muses! and To a pet cobra by Roy Campbell.]
Gert Strydom, 5 february 2013
Today I stood at my father’s grave in the rain
Today I stood at my father’s grave
in the rain,
took a few photographs
and still it was difficult
and strange to say goodbye
and like always
I would have wanted it different.
From my childhood days
I cannot let animals
and people go
and the loss wrings through me.
He’s is already buried for forty three years
and still I miss him
and cannot get answers to reason why
destiny knocks some people down
and let other be.
Gert Strydom, 12 february 2013
How do I wish to go home (Wordsworth sonnet)
How do I constantly wish to go home
to a place where some green meadows greet me,
where cattle, horses and sheep roam carefree
under the wide heaven’s bluest kind of dome.
The fresh country air has an own welcome
where man can still see small signs of his God
and near to Him come, constantly daily trod;
far from the city, to senses I will come
daily see His works in the green cornfields
in the many bright flowers that blossom,
peacefully experience crops that yields
to bounty and live totally wholesome,
walk daily in patches of some wild flowers
see living effects of the rain showers.
Gert Strydom, 22 february 2013
Now that the autumn sun
Now that the autumn sun
pushes out its first fingers,
and the leaves of my life
are falling colourful,
while the winter wind
rustles somewhat cold through them
and I am of the opinion
that the spring and summer between us
eternally is in the past,
you do bring to my life
again new meaning.
Gert Strydom, 4 february 2013
Behind your green-brown eyes
Behind your green-brown eyes
intense secrets do hide
where at first light
next to each other we lie whispering.
Outside doves
coo, woo and flutter
while a church-bell
calls out the time
when the sun loving like us
gives its last caress to the earth
and the moon’s soft satin
which is swallowed by the darkness of the night
becomes a memory of tonight
where it already hangs naked.
Gert Strydom, 12 february 2013
Near Helderberg Hill
There’s a chill tonight
on Helderberg Hill
an icy wind blows through the trees
and it’s raining still,
as it did for days
as it does each
and every Mediterranean winter.
The sweet scent
and not that of the forest of the trees
but of lavender instead is in the breeze
and fills my lungs, fills my heart, my head
until it becomes a part of me
but big eyed you lie
in the bed next to me
and the rain outside falls on and on
with fog cordoning off the hill,
the painting on the wall,
the garden with its bush upon bush
of waving lavender
are now all gone out of sight
and a solitary pistil awakens and grows in size,
entering a calyx, a tubular corolla forming two lips
and it could have been spring
as new life is sprouting, but a chilly winter it is
in the house near Helderberg Hill
Gert Strydom, 5 february 2013
Today I saw an old man
Today I saw an old man
who is dear to me
and whose thoughts
age tried to wipe out
and he looked at me
trying to comprehend.
There was still
some intelligence in his eyes
and finally when he realized
who I am
his heart reached out
and his hand was still warm.
My heart could have broken
a thousand times
while I saw the damage
that Alzheimer’s had done,
but there was a smile
on his face
before we left
and his mind
wasn’t totally gone
and I saw the struggle in him
against forgetting
trying to reach beyond
what life would let him
and still trying
to be himself
and heard him pray
believing that God still helps.
Gert Strydom, 16 july 2012
Last
When the light dims from my eyes
there will be no fatherly hand
to hold on to mine
to feel the last pulse
of life beating
while the darkness claims me
and when I disappear from life,
glide into death
You are the Father
that I find on the other side.
[References: “Erato” by Anyte. Laaste (Last) by Riana Scheepers.]
Gert Strydom, 8 january 2013
New Year’s Eve
The year slowly comes with the ticking clock to an end,
while the new year is almost born
when the neighbours drown themselves in liquor,
and afraid of the festive sounds the cat sneaks in again.
Soberly we have our own festivities,
while outside thundering explosion on thundering explosion occurs
when the New Year is almost born
and afraid of the festive sounds the cat sneaks in again.
Later more meteorites explode
and they hang like stars to the heaven
while the neighbours gather around a barrel of wine,
and afraid of the festive sounds the cat sneaks in again.
Gert Strydom, 17 january 2013
Many people knew you well
(after Robert Browning, for Minette)
Many people knew you well,
but not one of them as free,
as in the way that you were to me
and all your achievements they do tell
but even after death they are under your spell
and they a gracious beautiful lady see
while I am struck down by iniquity
and am wondering about heaven and hell
while watery my eyes go
and spiritless you lie at final rest
while I am deadly pale
and uncontrollable now my tears flow
while to me life is just a long continual test
in which we all struggle to prevail.
[Reference: “Sonnet: “Eyes calm beside thee (Lady, could’st thou know!)” by Robert Browning.]
Gert Strydom, 8 january 2013
Its as if my country is on a different planet
It’s as if my country
is now somewhere on a different planet
and early in the morning I see the poor black man
where he sits with hair like strings
covered in a blanket
against the wall of the ABSA bank
where people at eight o’clock
stand in a very long queue
while they wait upon the bank to open
and the friendly police captain
(who sometimes wear plain clothes)
and has a shining bald head
greets me and he wants to know
where my motorcycle is?
There are a group of jobless white people
twisting tobacco from cigarette buts
where they beg for leftover food
at DJ’s restaurant
and I wonder what is happening to this country
while a minibus taxi
stops in the middle of the road
and drops people in the traffic
and the traffic light is green
when I cross to the shopping centre
and the minibus taxi ignores the red light
and barely misses me.
Gert Strydom, 21 september 2012
How do I tell you?
How do I tell you again and again
about how true my love is,
when continually I miss you when you are gone?
Sometimes love brings healing to pain
and these feelings I cannot stop
when even in sorrow they are present.
How do I tell you again and again
about how true my love is,
about how much I constantly yearn for you,
that our love brings a sparkle to each day
and is far stronger than any hindrance,
that there is more to love than just an oath?
How do I tell you again and again
about how true my love is?
Gert Strydom, 18 july 2012
Landmine
When the Buffel troop-carrier detonates a landmine
we see dark dots moving in the bush
and I break loose with the light machinegun
that the empty burning-hot caps hit against me
and as long as there is movement
on the other side of the dry riverbed
our fire is drawn
until everything is motionless.
With the smell of gunpowder hanging around us,
a skimpy goat-herdsman
crawls out from behind a giant ant hill
and cries about his dead goats.
Gert Strydom, 18 july 2012
A Phosphorus projectile explodes
A Phosphorus projectile explodes
burns soldiers to particles of dust
when an enemy tank fires
hitting a Ratel armoured car in a bright glare,
burns hissing right through the blood of boys,
it becomes a terrible hour
where humanity goes totally dim.
Gert Strydom, 17 july 2012
Like ants living clustered in (cavatina)
Like ants living clustered in, we do live
and are rushing
without noticing the red rising sun;
and everything
falls into place in our quickened pace
and each feeling,
action, glance is set in a quick-fix day
where we do loose the ability to pray,
with significant others instead of
husbands and wives,
where our children do not have to obey,
living their lives
totally Godless as they reach for more
and are in strive
with the laws and the ways of society
as everything centres just on I and me.
Gert Strydom, 17 july 2012
Progress
Dress your legs with nylons
with cat eyes in between
glowing next to huge pylons
never serene, just weirdly obscene
and destroy every patch of green
with shopping malls and every chain store
disrupting how towns and cities had been
and plant power stations by the score
and be a age totally foul
with scores of minibus taxi’s asunder
acting as if without a soul
to kill and to plunder
with the monsters bellowing
smoke like gallows, energizing electrical strings.
Gert Strydom, 16 january 2013
A kind of freedom
Here I want to thank the black government
for their type of freedom that circles out wider,
from a job I have been affirmed and are free from it
and it is not very long
that I am again aware about this freedom thing,
when black robbers drive around in both my cars.
Before I can wipe out my eyes the police visit me
while they wander around in my house
without a invitation, or even a warrant
where they set me free of my pellet guns,
my stainless steel Colt .45 signature model pistol
and ELG shotgun without laying a charge.
I have to deal with freedom again
when black people cheer in the street
about the soccer world cup,
jumping up and down everywhere around me
while they sing, they assure me of freedom,
but my cellular phone disappears
and the felon that has it is also very happy.
At home a stranger rushes upon me
while he points a firearm at my head
to rob me from my possessions,
to set me free from my property
and probably spits AIDS into my face,
says he was promised a land of milk and honey
and if you think that here I am only joking
you do not get the real meaning of this poem,
as these things did really happen
and still I am facing this kind of freedom.
Gert Strydom, 16 january 2013
Just beyond Gordon’s Bay
Just beyond Gordon’s Bay
where arum-lilies bloom
I had dropped her,
and look with wonder for a moment at nature
but she walked back into my arms again.
Gert Strydom, 25 september 2012
There is a kind of love (Persian / Rubiyat quatrain)
There is a kind of love and loving,
that is a very strange kind of thing
that even with separation and death
still keeps living and existing.
Gert Strydom, 31 october 2012
She was white blonde
She was white blonde,
her eyes sometimes bright sky-blue,
she was white blonde,
with a foot right next to the abyss
when I held her tightly against me,
and for the first time really noticed her well,
she was white blonde…
Gert Strydom, 16 january 2013
Daybreak
When he wakes up at first light
without a movement he looks at her
in her peaceful sleep
where she is right against him
but away in thoughts and existence.
He is much too scared to move,
scared that she might awake
before the right time
and then suddenly she opens her eyes
and he fills her gaze,
as she draws him to the heat of her body.
Gert Strydom, 25 september 2012
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
and next me you lie naked and stretched out,
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness
and when I listen to your breathing
I notice your back, arm and slender neck.
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
and my certainty about us, about you becomes a fact,
when your breathing continually covers me like kisses
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness
and at a time my life was shackled in,
when days moved quickly through the calendar.
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
as if at times I listen to the secrets of the night
until the sun licks over the distant hillocks
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness
and although at times in life I loose my way
nothing can violate the love between us.
It’s as if your breath whispers declarations of love
while you bring warmth to the cold darkness.
Gert Strydom, 24 december 2012
This is how Christmas is
With cupped hands I see him standing at a traffic light
and around him lines of cars drive past,
while people go on with their own lives
and some drive faster,
others cut in before others
and in silence he stands there without a single word.
At a shop window he sometimes stand with wide eyes,
where new clothes, very expense toys
are almost touchable near to him
and he does wish on this Christmas
to get something special
and his clothes are in tatters,
his black skin almost grey from hunger,
impatient cars continually blow on their horns
and he dreams about a large and pretty house
where the most delicious smells linger in the kitchen
and sometimes people look at him with pity,
while he longs for a very special kind of place
where a lost son is always welcome,
where God Himself stand welcoming with arms open wide,
where you can smell the fragrance of roasted lamb
and nobody does experience grief, are hunger or cold.
An old lady sincerely takes pity on him,
pushes a hot loaf of bread and a bottle of milk in his hands,
while others avoid him
and he does miss his father and mother who are both dead,
thinks this is how Christmas is
and suddenly his teeth glitter in a smile.
Gert Strydom, 24 december 2012
Christmas Eve (cavatina)
With flaming torches the carollers came,
their songs of joy
of Jesus born in Bethlehem brought magic;
their small convoy
quickly drive away to their big houses
to there enjoy
their own Christmas Eve, to celebrate,
to together feel somewhat good and great.
Gert Strydom, 2 august 2012
Migrant birds
Suddenly out of the blue
they came together and flopped down,
children wanted to shoot some with catapults
when wildly they flapped wings among each other,
were walking up and down with twittering sounds,
were standing around in parks for breadcrumbs,
were walking around on sidewalks like pedestrians
until the church bells did ring of three o’clock,
and they flew up in a wide curve
taking to flight into a born-in direction.
Gert Strydom, 6 december 2012
Daybreak
Becoming wide awake at the first light
he lies motionless, watches her
in her tranquil sleep,
where she is right there,
but somewhere away from him.
He is far too scared to move,
scared to wake her up
before the set time
and then suddenly her eyes open,
she watches him,
draws him close to the heat of her body.
Gert Strydom, 24 august 2012
Outside the snow is falling
Outside the snow is falling,
are gliding like pieces of paper coming down,
the icy wind is biting
when I brush off some flakes
and now it falls continually
when you phone, quite amused,
with the signal sometimes growing faint
while you say that you desire me.
Gert Strydom, 5 december 2012
Age had killed the child
Age had killed the child,
but I the adult was uncorrupted,
somewhere I had lost something pure,
while the child was killed slowly;
rebellion I could inherit from the child.
Gert Strydom, 26 november 2012
Arrival
With a tingle that rushes in my blood
you run up to me with a great smile
when I arrive from the aeroplane
and again I am astonished by your beauty
when a crowd of people move around us
and we embrace and are lost in each other.
Moments stretch out almost eternally
when we disrupt the movement of other passengers,
when pairs of eyes stare deeply into each others
as if we see each other for the first time,
when time keeps lingers as if it does not exist
and we embrace and are lost in each other.
Gert Strydom, 26 november 2012
Let us love nobly (Stave stanza sestets)
May we learn to love as deep and as true,
that not a thing can remove me from you
that all our words and actions only prove
that we both do truly know how to love,
when in old age we are, our days do pass,
in our love, everything might be as it was.
May we love each other with no decay,
that each tomorrow be better than today
and when all of life has run its own course,
in death there will be sleep and no divorce
and when we stand before our God at last
in our love, everything might be as it was.
Gert Strydom, 14 august 2012
I have loved you (Strambotto Romagnuolo)
I have loved you during each summer’s day,
though age now comes with years far too suddenly
nothing existing can take our feelings away;
in the times of hardship you have been friendly,
have brought light and brightness to every shade,
your beauty comes from the heart and will not fade
its great power springs from love that does not decay;
in winter your smile is like a summer’s day
Gert Strydom, 19 november 2012
When you came nearer
When you came nearer some birds flew up
while the sun glittered on you dark hair
and at that moment I did not say a word
while small devils danced in your eyes
and the whole world around us was vague
while something deep was hidden in your dark eyes
and your presence brought great joy to me.
Gert Strydom, 20 november 2012
Meeting
For a moment your hand rests cool in mine,
when you wish me a happy new year,
when our eyes meet deep, when you introduce yourself
and I know that you are extremely lovely,
for moments this contact lingers with me
while the pace of my heart quickens,
the contact becomes something intimate and intense,
a place away from a world of pain.
Gert Strydom, 1 august 2012
When suddenly you came along (Trijan refrain)
When suddenly you came along
my whole life had changed,
unexpected my love was strong
life was rearranged
and butterflies dart everywhere
while some bees visit here and there
and butterflies
and butterflies
turn my stomach, I am without care.
When suddenly you came along
I did not know your name,
if to somebody you do belong,
but somehow our love came
your face had grace, your eyes did gleam
and your voice was like a stream
your face had grace,
your face had grace,
and you leapt into each dream.
When suddenly you came along
you were most beautiful
and with you I could not be wrong,
as my whole heart was full
of our great love on each new day
and my heart was happy and gay
of our great love,
of our great love
that not a thing could take away.
Gert Strydom, 20 december 2012
There is loneliness in the autumn wind
There is loneliness in the autumn wind,
it whirls leaves and clouds of dust up
when by accident you walk into me
and we stumble and fall over each other
when our eyes meet
and suddenly you smile at me.
Gert Strydom, 19 december 2012
With eyes sparkling green and gold
With eyes sparkling green and gold
you did look at me
and for moments we looked at each other.
Out of the branches of the old pepper tree
doves shyly peered at us
and the wind rustled through your hair.
I wanted to show you the flowering irises,
wanted you to smell the jasmine
but we were caught in each other.
Gert Strydom, 6 november 2012
Tonight stars do twinkle (English sonnet)
Tonight stars do twinkle with their glowing light
while the wonders from God’s hand do shine
and some are dim and some are white and bright
as they display a power Godly and divine
and from the moment they did begin
every night they do find their way
as Godly beacons to a world of sin
until the very break of day
while constantly they do glow
and in the darkness do appear
as if some hidden purpose they do know,
as if to them constantly Godly power is near
as they are shining always sparkling
and to onlookers some wonder and joy they do bring
Gert Strydom, 17 december 2012
If you come with me to be my true love (Collins Sestets)
(after Christopher Marlowe)
If we walk through the meadow and the field
a hat does your beauty to the sun shield
where we will sit on the gigantic brown rocks
see small rock-rabbits running in their flocks,
where nature does its abundant beauty prove
if you come with me to be my true love.
Bright cosmos flowers will bloom at your feet,
everywhere the smell of jasmine will be sweet,
a mountain stream will be refreshing cold,
while the sun on the cliffs glitter like gold
where nature does its abundant beauty prove
if you come with me to be my true love.
I will crown you with a wreath of flowers
while we dance among the spring rain showers
small birds will constantly joyously sing
the delights of every summer morning
where nature does its abundant beauty prove
if you come with me to be my true love.
[Reference: “The passionate shepherd to his love” by Christopher Marlowe.]
Gert Strydom, 14 december 2012
Doll of mine
Maybe I will see you later coming down the street,
past bastions of brick and steel
where people lock their house, are disguised knights
and I wish that a kind of peace will come.
Maybe you will smile like you sometimes do,
stop for moments to hear a poem,
and I wish that you will linger a little longer;
doll you have previously bewitched me:
to you I have lost my heart some time ago.
Gert Strydom, 13 december 2012
When daylight comes
When daylight comes the clouds draw open
while the night takes all of her shining stuff,
the rays of the sun walk through the heaven,
stars shatter to pieces beyond the blue
and when the moon gleams golden after the twilight,
become much bigger as if it gets nearer
and climbs with a bow over the horizon
then the night clothes herself in her satin black cloak again,
while stars appears like white falling pieces of hail.
Gert Strydom, 4 february 2013
Rapture
The sun barely comes through the curtains
kicked-out shoes lie skew
next to our big bed.
Your soft blouse, denim skirt,
brassiere and panties
are nearby, spread all over the floor
and on the bed you are stretched out and naked.
Rapture goes through me
while your eyes burn into mine,
when your breasts draw my eyes
and their pink nipples
are upright;
your Moondrops perfume
reach out to me
when your arms draw me down
into your soft heat
and between us passion does flame.
Gert Strydom, 12 december 2012
After you did draw the curtains tight
After you did draw the curtains tight,
your clothes dropped
and you were stretched out over the bed,
looking very enticing.
You smiled, when you reached for me,
with you soft mouth that were luring,
when you were right against me,
when you wanted me to settle myself in you;
your breasts were soft, firm and round
and without any fear
you took me to ultimate bliss,
where you healed me,
where you taught me to be lost
in a place far past
the urges of the human spirit,
to find a kind of peace.
Gert Strydom, 20 august 2012
From the time that every day had begun (Strambotto Toscano)
From the time that every day had begun
life has got a struggle, an ageless kind of plea,
and from the awakening of the white hot sun,
even creatures in the unbounded sea
was threatened as they were having some fun
yet from all of these things our true love stands free
as it sparkles like a star during the darkest night,
forever shines bright with its own kind of light.
Latest comments:
1 may 2024
violetta
Tak;)
1 may 2024
kb
złotej*
1 may 2024
kontoler żłotej poświaty
1 may 2024
samo życie, każdy swoje brudy ma, lepsze czy
1 may 2024
romantyczny to romantyczny, prawdziwy taki
1 may 2024
ten ketchup to fakt, trzeba przypilnować przy
1 may 2024
interesujący przekaz, jak dla mnie o własnej
1 may 2024
jakby trzy style w jednej substancji :)
1 may 2024
ucieczka z przewidzianym powrotem to też stabilizacja...
29 april 2024
Nie jest niczym podyktowany:)
29 april 2024
sam53
nic nowego, wszystko mam pod kontrolą... tak
29 april 2024
a jak wygląda nieromantyczny pocałunek...?
1 may 2024
wiesiek
1 may 2024
Satish Verma
30 april 2024
Satish Verma
29 april 2024
Satish Verma
28 april 2024
Jaga
28 april 2024
Satish Verma
27 april 2024
Jaga
27 april 2024
Satish Verma
26 april 2024
Satish Verma
25 april 2024
Satish Verma