Gert Strydom, 18 july 2013
There is a time that I am surrounded by bliss
when in the late afternoon you lie in my arms,
when the last rays of the sun peep in,
when I feel your breath against me
and then I do know how deep love is.
Gert Strydom, 18 july 2013
With you that do love me
I do not know what to expect
and without you I will miss my whole life
and you are in every night and day.
Now that it’s already becoming late summer
there are the most beautiful flowers that bloom,
and the years that do remain are coming too quickly to their end
when my whole life comes to fulfilment.
Continually you do bring sunshine
and you give me an urge to live,
while you bring the joys of happiness and pain
when I do really know the depths of love
and I wonder how long this summer will last
before our days grow faint with the winter.
Gert Strydom, 18 july 2013
At times I think of that summer with you,
with affection
about how very happy we were then.
Recollection
brings me back to a time now forgotten,
a connection
had formed between us, some call it love,
it is something that no one can remove.
Gert Strydom, 17 july 2013
There is a mystery in the secret magic
and intricate way of how nature works
and in a almost barren semi-desert
a water-pan becomes an object of survival
and a natural wonder of the world
when it makes the difference between
life and a thirsty death
and although a pan might be largely dried up
a little bit of water attracts
wildebeest and zebra
and the predators like the lions,
hyenas, jackals and wild dogs
that does follow them.
Ants burrow lime up from beneath the earth
which attract the big game to salt licks
and the buffalo, eland, gemsbok, kudu,
wildebeest, impala and springbuck
churn up the earth
as they do create
a small muddy hollow.
Later a small shallow salt pool appears
which the game uses for wallowing and drinking
and when the heavy seasonal rain comes
the rain swells the salt pool to a larger pan
where some more game wallow, drink
and carry some of the mud away.
With the passing of time
the pan becomes a larger lake
that is not more than a few meters deep
where a myriad of game
and predators gather
in the eternal struggle for survival.
Gert Strydom, 17 july 2013
In the early spring the signs are everywhere
before the rain comes after the winter
and the birds twitter and frolic around
while thousands of ants swarm on the ground
when the first flashes appear over the horizon
and here and there the sun disappear behind clouds
when the rain lilies suddenly open to flower
and for moments all of nature is astounded
as the rain brings new life to the dried out earth
and of her coming
all of the animals bear a kind of knowledge
and in the wild the wildebeest and zebras gather
where they tipple and gambol and turn skew
as they open there noses to the wind
to try and find the first signs of the rain
as the coming of the rain is sure
and joy is everywhere in the veldt and wilderness
and the grains of sand jumps up
when the first drops of rain does fall,
when the thunder explodes blue-white much nearer
and you can smell the joy of the wet earth
and even some of the wild flowers are blooming
and it’s as if everything is holding their breath
before a rainbow hangs high in the blue
and God smiles over the earth and the universe
and the rain pours down over the meadow and the dale.
Gert Strydom, 17 july 2013
My darling says look at the sky
and I see that it’s grey
and I wonder how much
she does really love me
and in the distance
I hear the roar of thunder
and how it’s drawing nearer and nearer
and we smell the rain
in which she wants to frolic
while it falls and the thunder
is coming closer and closer
and there is a light breeze blowing,
which makes her hair hang in strings
while the clouds are drawing close.
Gert Strydom, 17 july 2013
I saw it first,
that giant magic tree
just over the Magalies mountains
with thousands of Jacaranda trees
lining the streets acknowledging
that soon the sun would shine again.
The pepper tree in the front
of the yard took its notice
while birds started singing in it,
and the avocado tree stopped lashing the roof
and was looking at the majesty
of different colours.
That great clear rainbow was huge
spreading its beauty and indicated
the end of days of rain,
but our bedroom’s windows
were drawn close
with thick mauve curtains
fencing you off
in your own cave
which was as dark as a grave
where you hated any light
and laid in darkness
as if the fourteen day’s rain
would last forever
and the only safe place
was the big warm copper bed
and yet, outside the sun
was hanging brilliant white
in a clear blue sky
while you wished to die
and felt more blue
than the heaven above
and when I opened the curtains,
opened the windows wide,
you saw me as a member
of the inquisition
and thought that I was throwing
a searchlight in your eyes
as if I wanted to question you
and I wonder why
you wanted to spend the whole holiday
sleeping and playing dead?
Gert Strydom, 16 july 2013
(after William Wordsworth)
There was something strange that did draw my sight
as if she was an angel of the light,
as a apparition from heaven sent
she filled more than a single moment;
a women with her own ways and own will
but made great with some divine perfect skill.
Like me she was but a mortal being
but her glance and her voice made my heart sing,
right there maybe God did not intervene,
her company was sweet, somewhat serene;
a women with her own ways and own will
but made great with some divine perfect skill.
Her lovely bright eyes did mine squarely meet
and she was sculpted perfect to her feet,
her actions was at her will, true and free
and bright like the sun she smiled at me;
a women with her own ways and own will
but made great with some divine perfect skill.
[Reference: “She was a phantom of delight” by William Wordsworth.]
Gert Strydom, 16 july 2013
(after John Harington)
I saw a girl with eyes shining, ablaze
with cheeks much softer than a single rose
and saw her on some pleasant summer days,
broken things do not fit, she did disclose,
with good intentions, trouble was my own;
I know no way to melt a heart of stone.
It was too early for of love to speak,
saw unhappy tears running down her cheek,
while I did not know how I did cause pain,
have no ideas of what actions remain,
with good intentions, trouble was my own;
I know no way to melt a heart of stone.
The good deeds and words which are very kind
at times speaks to the heart, the soul and mind,
nothing rekindles a quenched desire,
less it’s some divine, Godly kind of fire;
with good intentions, trouble was my own;
I know no way to melt a heart of stone.
[Reference: “On Isabella Markham” by John Harington.]
Gert Strydom, 16 july 2013
(after George Wither)
While gentle you lie sleeping next to me
I am thinking of stealing one small kiss
and between us both, kisses must come free;
is it some robbery if I do this?
Maybe looking at you, you will awake,
a kiss will not leave you poor indeed,
but plenty more is there only to take
while many more I do constantly need,
while sleeping you smile, as if to proceed.
[Reference: “A stolen kiss” by George Wither.]
Poetry
Prose
Photography
Graphics
Video poems
Postcards
Diary
Books
Handmade
