Now is the time of our awakening
I
Now is the time of our awakening
in world where things are beautiful,
with the first caressing touch
of the morning’s refreshment
where the sun falls bright and hot,
where birds are singing together in joy,
in the blue jewel of the universe
about the glory that summer brings,
the earth is fresh after the first summer rain
with every tree, plant and flower
that grows much more powerful than previously
in the glory of their maturity
in every touch, colour and scent
we find nature at her prime.
II
We find nature at her prime
with birds singing joyous in the branches,
and we cannot draw ourselves away
of a world intruding into us,
every morning has something glorious
that we only have got to discover
and every time that you look at me
your glance wants to draw me into depths,
the essence of love is caught
in every day hanging around us,
we celebrate our intimate connection
in every wish and urge
that we yearn for in this world;
now your smile falls brightly.
III
Now your smile falls brightly
over the darkness of my life,
shining like a glorious day,
you bring new meaning each day
when your hand folds finely over mine
you look fragile, modestly
and I see the heavenly cobalt blue colour
in the bright gaze in your eyes
your voice is pure in every sound of it,
you are prettier than the most beautiful flower,
when your arms stretch round my neck
with everything coming out of the depth of love
our existence, our summer becomes holy
with an indistinguishable bright light.
IV
With an indistinguishable bright light
in the blinding bright ardour
of Your Godly omnipotence
that breaks right through our wavering courage
we both want to see You in our foolishness
even if days, nights, times has got to shatter
where You keep the world in Your mighty hands
past seasons of summer and winter
but in no thunder or raining stars
we could really see or find You,
in silent illustriousness You come
where every flower and animal serves you out of there own
from past the age old beginning, in the shining light
in the glory of sunshine.
V
In the glory of sunshine
you are in every bright summer day,
in the stars shining at night,
in the sovereign blue sky.
To me you are the most beautiful woman
who can understand me entirely
and there’s a kind of nobility that I see in you,
with comprehension you know where my life is going.
You are given to me in this summer sun,
as if happiness is bounded to this moment,
in the things we wish for and can do
for a whole lifetime’s meaning
when nature splashes down in moments;
the smell of your hair is like sweet grass.
VI
The smell of your hair is like sweet grass
baking in the summer sun
or ripe red peaches on a branch
that is washed clean in the drizzle
and the way that you reach for me
is like the brittle fluttering
of the wind singing through the trees,
is caressing like sun on glass
and your unknown moving foot
is a butterfly fluttering between flowers,
that only touches here and there in her arrival
before it again in apprehension flies away
with brittle wings banging down;
you are my serenity of the veldt.
VII
You are my serenity of the veldt,
earthly and still noble and pure,
the sweet repeating refrain
that insects and birds keep on mentioning.
You are glittering like an awesome brooch,
with your eyes glistening like the shining stars,
with enchantment that cannot disappear
full of fire but naturally unaffected.
You are the fluttering of the wind
that rustles through the fields of grass,
with the soft touching,
the charm that you find in drops
that sieve down on you, hesitating on your cheeks;
now is the time of our awakening.
poem by Gert Strydom
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My Love Outshines The Summer Sun (Sonnet Corona)
(after William Shakespeare)
I
My love outshines the summer sun,
even stars in their remote twinkling light
and her eyes are more beautiful, each one
than the stars glimmering at night
Her cheeks is dimpled cute
her hair is an auburn crown,
her cheeks is rosy beyond repute
her hair is sun-shot twisting in a way of their own.
Her lips are more soft and warm
and her spirit is more mild
than a ray of light falling on my arm
or at times more free and wild
than birds where they fly,
my love is like the radiant sapphire sky.
II
My love is like the radiant sapphire sky
like the breeze rustling through trees
so lovely on my eye,
eager to please.
My love is like the summer sun,
like the blue hued sea
always warm and full of fun,
touching me gently
even when the darkness calls
and when time goes to its finality
like a star her light still falls,
my love stays true to me
in every thing her face I see
so gentle, sweet and free.
III
So gentle, sweet and free
my love lives her life
but I long for her to be near to me
in a world without any strive.
Like a lily prospering alone in the marsh
blooming pure and serene,
my darling lives unknown to a world harsh
out of control, away from the limelight scene
and in that rural place
her beauty is untouched by makeup,
filled with a sweet grace
and even in the morning when she wakes up
the sun is in her hair,
my darling is really fair.
IV
My darling is really fair
there are stars in her eyes,
she’s the most beautiful flower found anywhere,
her eyes are much more pure than the bluest skies.
When she smiles at me,
smiling tenderly,
I in her smile blessings see
as if love is there in all of its glory.
Still more so the bliss
that is caught in her kiss
that comes from the divine
which she is making mine
and sometimes the beauty makes her cry,
when the day flutters by.
V
When the day flutters by
with the sun setting red
you will find my love and I
where stars come out from bed,
then like a butterfly
the sun kisses the night,
touches the dark low and high
before it goes by with its last light
and she unloosens my tie
while we watch the full yellow moon,
while the fire in her eyes lie
sparkling, much brighter than the sunny afternoon,
but with a passing bat flying low she catches a fright,
while the stars are shining bright.
VII
While the stars are shining bright
like jewels in the sky’s crown
on a winter night
it has tranquillity, a beauty of its own,
her eyes are radiant,
as if aflame
lovely and brilliant
and of some she know the name
and something indiscernibly small
creeps into the very soul, into the heart
and of it that is all,
a smouldering, something with which we cannot part:
to me she remains the only one in joy and fun,
my love outshines the summer sun.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Daybreak is A Glowing Bright Ball
Daybreak is a glowing bright ball
from which the fiery rays shine,
sometimes drops falling along with thunder,
with freshness embracing me when I go outside.
Early morning is a bright sun hanging in the heaven
when the colour of the bright blue
catches you with something full of mystery,
with the wind sometimes clinging to you with fingers.
Spring is flower upon flower
that is spread over fruit trees,
the beauty that astonishes you
when the garden of God stretch into the fields.
Summer is fruit that waits ripe and luring
when everything becomes adult,
sunny day upon sunny day
where the prettiest flowers are still flowering.
Autumn is coloured leaves that are everywhere,
the summer still lingering for the last time
and everything has a secret knowledge
that winter is coming, even every sunray
and nowhere I can find the words of a child,
while I am blinded by the glorious world from being young.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In the Highveld
(after Toon van den Heever)
I
In the Highveld with the sky cobalt blue and open
where rock rabbits, steenbok and baboons revel,
you see the wind skipping through the long grass
and you can still believe in God and His angels,
the rain gathers with thunder
where through the open spaces you can see far into the veldt,
you are astounded by the beauty of flowering proteas
and you still can realize your dependence
but when the city’s rumbling becomes too much,
the jacarandas start flowering in the streets,
buildings of steel and concrete start to curtail you,
you dream about wild flowers appearing everywhere
and it’s the places of a child that you miss,
in the Highveld where the veldt stretches out into the distance.
II
In the Highveld where the veldt stretches out into the distance
and the wind rollicks through the grass
the sky is pure blue and you can look for hours at it,
there you can find freedom from the city’s imprisonment.
When the wind rustles through the march you loose all sadness,
you see the African red-knobbed coot gathering her chickens,
you can hear the finches’ caper, branches full together,
you see every great small happening,
how wild flowers of every imaginable colour
grow as if planted in secret
(and I will go back if I only could)
where I can find some serenity, can have peace
where I will know about God’s heritage;
there the sun shines.
III
There the sun shines
where proteas and aloes flower wildly,
bright up to the horizon
coming out of the earth by themselves
with violets growing purple-blue right through the marsh,
with daisies stretching white over the veldt,
with long tailed widow birds flapping their wings
and the earth is covered with long green grass.
To this piece of ground I am trapped
even when my days are drawing to their end,
it goes even to my heart’s deepest yearning,
with every plant, bush and flower
as it’s bought with sweat and blood,
nobody can strip it from me.
IV
Nobody can strip it from me,
I have to go back to where the sun hangs golden
in the sapphire heaven, I have got to strip the city from me
(but if I only could)
the big desire stays and out of the town I must go
away from the ambulance and police sirens that cuts through everything,
trains whistling almost endlessly,
I have got to go to where only the frog choir and crickets sing.
Again I have got to get the smell of sugar bushes,
smell the rain, spring, summer and even autumn
I must get away from a world where tinned pleasure seduces,
where people use other people for their own pleasure.
I want to stand in the green fields of grass,
when the day dies.
V
When the day dies
letting its last rays fall,
with the birds flying to their nests
darkness comes to this part of the universe,
the doves at dusk still call to each other
as if their voices bind them in the darkness,
you can see the moon sailing golden-yellow through the sky,
you are sometimes blinded by the bright rays,
the city lights glitter far away
in all the colours of the rainbow,
here you want to bond your life to a loved one,
catching her moments long in your eye
when people come together here,
the madness of the human existence is exorcised.
VI
The madness of the human existence is exorcised
even in later years past your own youth,
when you are in the world that your heart desires,
you want to invite the new spring to stay with you
shaking out that which bothers and torments to the early summer wind,
feeling the effervescence of new life,
blinded by the sun you want to find healing
while the whole of spring washes through your life
with the light, air, the flowers, birds and sun splashing down
as if your autumn is only in your imagination,
you want to wash yourself clean from old age,
you are searching for exorcism from the darkness
there are still flowers sprouting out everywhere,
when the colours of autumn smoulder in the trees.
VII
When the colours of autumn smoulder in the trees
with branches being full of coloured leaves,
the sun is still heating as in summer
before the first biting winds begin to whine.
I see opened pod upon opened pod
that lays brown scorched without any signs of seeds,
the dull blue sky has clouds in milky white,
trees become a wild watermill
that is halfway skeleton, halfway still carrying leaves,
afternoons are still drawn out
and even when days earlier end in winter
it’s a time without equal,
as if the summer can last forever,
in the Highveld with the sky cobalt blue and open.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Summer Romance
summer romance
the ever lasting moments
seeing you happy
fills my heart with joy
with the sun shining down on us
like nothing's there but the summer romance
all the wind and the waves
when we picked out our faves
the flower smell
sweet and small
i found what ive been searching for at last
its called summer romance
the sun shines so bright
when you told me this was right
with you in my arms
when we took a picture of the farms
in a flower we saw a bee
and told me that i will see
that tomorrow is a bright day
in so many kind of ways
so this is summer romance
ever lasting moments
being with you
its just that ill always love you
poem by Angeline Snowboy
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Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Highveld
I. Spring begins
Spring begins in green almond leaves,
in blossoms appearing snow white in a cobalt blue sky
where the sun sits brilliant white, glowing more intense than golden chandeliers,
where flowers appear and bridge the skeleton of every tree
while rain now pours down regularly,
sieves down in every bush and in the lane
with yellow and pink blossoms
appearing daily, puffing out.
Lord, let these times become a tribute
and what was once dead and winnowed
now become joyous, as a hymn of praise to You,
let fruit appear from the blessing that You are showering,
let my weak youth now overflow splendid, intact
in a life grounded on You, let Your light shine through my branches.
[Reference: Vroegherfs (Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Boland: Early autumn) by N.P. van Wyk Louw]
II. In this graceful spring
In this graceful spring
a glorious sun is shining so exuberant and happy
that I am straying, caught are astonished by Your world
where branches daily get new flowers:
flowers are spreading prettily on almond trees
peaches, apricots en plums are in full flowering
in colours of yellow, pink and snow white
and insects, bees and birds arrive in a wonder world.
where joy now jubilant without pain
is fulfilled in every flower, in my words
appear as Your biggest blessing
while You let glory come down from Your heavens,
that the whole of humanity, knows of growth and maturity,
insects, birds and the whole world shout out Your glory.
[Reference: Uit hierdie ligte herfs (Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Boland: Out of this light autumn) by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
III. Now the earth is glowing days long
Now the earth is glowing days long,
in the bright light that shines from a cloudless sky
and the last trees are still flowering
before spring disappears with the onslaught of summer.
Everything is still jubilant with flower upon flower
that uninterrupted find secret power,
in full growth devolving to tasty fruit
binding joy, energy and taste
in a harvest serving the Creator Himself,
gloriously taking us to a magnificent experience
where we admire the magic power of His works
and realize how glorious, overwhelming summer is:
that what once could flower
now turn into the best fruit, with branches full everywhere.
[Reference: Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Boland Winter by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
IV. Summer rain
Serenity fell overnight like rain
on the dry meadows of my existence
and uninterrupted and once unobserved the blessings appeared
from Your hand between the thunders that were falling around me.
The whole wide world is soaked where Your waters go
when my adult life suddenly bloomed,
are standing before new splendid horizons,
and dumbfounded I come to the knowledge of Your faithful love.
Here where I am overwhelmed by Your grace
I presume that You lead all paths to growth,
as Your power, life, light convenes in sympathy
where each life at a time comes to fullness
and even insignificant creature are regarded by You
with Your love that shower on sinners as I.
[Reference: Eerste sneeu (Four prayers during the yearly seasons in the Boland: First snow) by N.P. van Wyk Louw.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Once Upon A Summer Day
Once upon a Summer day,
Birds chirped in a musical way,
Grass drenched in the morning dew,
The sky covered in a vast color of blue.
Once upon a summer day,
Flowers bloomed in full array,
Bright rays of sunlight spilled
Upon my garden on the hill.
Once upon a summer day,
Thunder rumbled and prolonged its stay,
But after the rain tumbled down,
This summer day wore a glorious rainbow crown.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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When Days Get Long
I
When summer days get extremely long
the sky becomes a much deeper hue,
a myriad of birds fill the cobalt blue,
constantly singing their gorgeous song
it is as if everything do belong
to the coming spring, are singing true
like some beautiful birds and insects do,
while colourful swarming in their great throng
over the gentle meadow and the valley
filling the tranquil grey evening sky
softly singing a sweet kind of medley
while in jubilance they still do fly
over fields of hay and fields of barley,
sunny day after sunny day pass by.
II
Sunny day after sunny day pass by
with almost a kind of smothering heat
the fields, the open veldt and dirt road lie
far to hot to tread with just bare feet.
Everything shimmers, the poplars that rears
like huge fingers pointing to the sun,
massive broad oak trees of many years
and grass and flowers where life has just begun
glitters in a new emerald green sheen,
the wind rustles things touching one by one
as if finding things where there had not been,
between huge black boulders rocks and stone
the sun blazes on every day the same,
I see the sun making wings of hot flame.
III
I see the sun making wings of hot flame
on the few white clouds in dazzling colours
and in the west there are some small wild game
drinking water while the evening hours
brings the white and blue stars out dazzling clear
with night predators in the pitch black sky
and some more wild game are drawing near,
I hear the hyenas laughing, wild dogs cry,
the growls of lions, the howling of jackals,
I get the smells of the earth and the bush,
I hear some leopards growling, their calls
that are where they are lying in ambush,
at night the predators are hunting prey,
making a living in the dying day.
IV
Making a living in the dying day
swarms of birds fly calling with flapping wings
poplars, cedars and many trees do sway
while the twilight is grey, full of life, brings
as if by some magic, all at play
flying leaves, bats insects and flying things
with a few that lonesome away stray,
most are flying to nests in trees that swings
and eventually places of rest receives
the many small things that are fluttering,
the wind settles among the moving leaves,
the numerous evening birds start to sing
until the full moon shines its silver rays,
when night fades slowly as on other days.
V
When night fades slowly as on other days,
man is still bound by nature and destiny
to the world in which he works and plays
as it probably will be to eternity.
The yellow sun, the cobalt blue heaven
is like it has been from its very birth
with its joyous bright splendour even
like any other day upon this earth
but a time will come when man will be free
from all death and all kinds of destruction
from heartache, the sorrows that he see
with a new amazing introduction
to a place that’s holy, pure and bright;
now suddenly it is silver twilight.
VI
Now suddenly it is silver twilight
and the sheer darkness of night flees away
before the coming new breaking day
with the blazing sheer redness of sunlight
constantly reflecting against the bright
unclouded sky open in its solid grey
with the red blossoming as if its to stay
and in the veldt guinea fowl flees in fright
while a small jackal laughs out its delight
and the few milling dark clouds do stray
before a strong wind as if in spite
and through bushes and grass rocking it plays
churning up eddies before going out of sight
while the hot sun rises with its golden rays.
VII
While the hot sun rises with its golden rays,
you come from a country where rivers meander
where the rain sieves down for many days
where some beautiful wild birds do wander
in lush overgrown tranquil water-meadows,
far away from the busy big city,
filled with thick green living hedgerows
where many bright wild flowers are pretty
but I still do wonder what you will see
in a land where vicious savage beasts
have no civility and do roam free
where the natives have very weird feasts,
where the flaming sun does spare no one,
when summer days get extremely long.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Dear Summer
Dear summer,
It all happen on april 13th
It was the brightest day I have seen
The sun was shinning bright and the air was fresh,
And the green grass remind me why you summer are the best.
I no longer felt down cause you were around
Aand I felt like the luckiest girl cause it was summer I found
I thought of how I could repay you for all the love you gave me
Cause summer your love was simply amazing
You made the dead butterflies in my stomach revive
How can summer this year make me feel so alive?
I could of sworn this summer would last me forever
But everyone would warn me to be a bit clever
Cause seasons always change and weather changes moods.
And when my summer is here she helps the flowers bloom
But the flowers all die when its winter cause of the cold
I guess no one takes heed to what they are told.
Well im sorry my summer but today the sun isn't shining as bright
And when day light savings bbegins I gets colder at night.
Summer I noticed the leaves are starting to die
And the flowers that you love are no longer alive.
All the birds fly north and I just feel empty inside.
All of this is happening summer cause you were a lie.
They're all sick of the false hopes that you have brought them
But maybe we'll all find real love in autumn.
poem by Selina Cobain
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Spring Time Is Coming
Beautiful Spring is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here,
For the clear bright sun is shining
All human hearts to cheer.
One the brightest gems of nature
Is the orb that o'er us shines,
And o'er the wide creation,
It'll shine to the end of time.
The birds will soon be singing
On shrub and bough of trees,
Their notes will soon be ringing
Out, forth so merrily.
They love the merry spring time,
Those little birds we love,
They love the pleasant sunshine
That comes down from above.
We can hear them sweetly singing
From early morn, till night.
They make music in the woodland
Those little birds; so bright,
We should dearly love them,
Those little harmless things,
And when we hear their music,
We know that it is spring.
Ah; it's pleasant in the springtime,
All nature seems so gay.
Bright flowers in the sunshine,
Sweet fragrance can display.
The hills, and dales, and meadows,
So beautifully covered o'er;
With natures richest verdure,
The green grass, as of yore.
The winter will soon be over,
With its cold and chilly winds.
It is sad and dreary ever,
Yet its dying, free from sin.
Now the springtime is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here.
We will welcome in its coming
In this glad new year.
poem by Julia A Moore
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It is Spring Time
It is Spring Time
It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.
It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.
It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.
It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.
It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.
It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.
It is spring time.
poem by Crystal Chown
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Seasons
I
As if summer will never end
irises are everywhere in the garden
with opening flower after flower
in light yellow, deep purple and rust-brown.
The bright hot sun hangs day after day
in a cobalt blue sky and even carnations, geraniums
and flame lilies are showing their beauty,
are still holding onto summer.
Doves are still cooing in the oak tree,
their are finches and sparrows cavorting up and down
and it’s as if nature is thwarting autumn
while dew is still shining on the leaves in the mornings
until later the sky becomes dull blue
while the sun is getting much more faint.
II
Slowly the leaves are falling
descending in different colours,
in one’s and two’s and later in a bigger number
tree-trunks become dark brown, red and some pallid
until every tree but for those that are evergreen stand skeleton,
the birds that remain sit next to each other shivering,
wishing for the winter to past
having difficulty to find seeds and other food
and the cold winter wind blows through everything,
filling the air with whirling dust clouds
with stripped branches flinging up and down
and everywhere leaves and branches lie in a jumble
until the wind dies down and the morning fog hangs like vapour,
at times only at noon is dispersed by the sun.
III
Days are cold and grey while the sun hides,
with a owl hunting during the day
searching for hungry mice sneaking around in the yellow grass
and all other signs of animal life is missing
but for doves sitting here and there
on telephone wires,
in disconsolation staring into the distance
and early mornings the grass is covered with white ripe
and it is as if every flower succumbs,
is shrinking crumpled and are folding close
until the first spring rain comes suddenly,
with sprouts and buds appearing and new flowers folding open
when fruit trees are covered with white, pink and yellow blossoms
and the sudden beauty takes your breath away.
poem by Gert Strydom
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A Wreath Of Sonnets To A Sweetheart
I
Tonight for the first time I caught your gaze
where you smelt roses in a garden,
with auburn curly hair hanging down your shoulders,
at morning glories trumpeting in strings over the wall
the window reflected you, caught in bright glass
and from the street I saw how lovely you are
feelings dancing in your sea-green eyes
aware of a unknown secret bond
but in the morning light you did disappear like mist
and when I rose
your were just a thought
you were already gone
like a pretty withered flower;
our friendship came suddenly.
II
Our friendship came suddenly.
like lightning falling from the blue sky
where two people in the great universe
are astounded by each other momentarily,
maybe we knew intrinsically that troubled days were coming,
perhaps had a intuition that moments decay with time
and for the time that was given to us, we were madly in love
like everyone in mankind at times
as if you came into my life unstoppable,
the winter rain of months changed
with a unknown adaptability
and although you are at times far off and distant
you still remain the only one;
like two jewels your eyes are shining.
III
Like two jewels your eyes are shining
pierced by a bright light,
they are oval like olives
with the glittering of rainbows
still they have got the ability
to with a own secret language
draw my thoughts to you
when you bewitch me, full of sunshine laughter and elated
making the world wonderful
as if we are exceptional,
as if clouds are writing enchanting words in the sky,
the sun is rising over days that just get more beautiful
and like two children we find meaning;
by our own free will we are incorporated into each other
IV
By our own free will we are incorporated into each other
in ecstasy, recreation and trouble
of the small loving death
with words that your body writes.
Your slender body
presses tightly against mine
and I can feel your heart beating
without hesitation driven
moments are drawing out long
we are fulfilled in ecstasy,
you drawn me still closer
hitting your nails into me, screaming in pleasure
as if caught in this single moment,
you were twisting from sheer pleasure.
V
You were twisting from sheer pleasure,
but why do your eyes bother me
when you complete me so perfectly,
going deep into my soul leaving an inability?
When this wondrous night passes
you stay incomprehensible to me,
as if something is missing from my comprehension,
that lies between us, something almost untouchable.
Still there is sunshine in every glance that you give
and an intimate certainty with which you love me
as if you trust me with every secret,
as if our feelings will never change
even when destiny foams thundering,
when the cold rain pours down.
VI
When the cold rain pours down
as if there’s no stopping to it,
sieving down in a Cape winter in banks of fog,
with the wind howling around the corners of the house
there’s a monotonousness in the noise,
days became grey as if stripped from meaning,
your smile comes to me day after day to refresh my life,
it’s as if you traverse my life the whole time
and I realise how fleeting life is,
that what we have got is caught in the here and now,
in the glitter and sparkle of the moment,
where I cannot still draw you near;
while you are doing your undressing dance.
VII
While you are doing your undressing dance
my beloved auburn girl, you are standing there winking,
while braless you gambol around me
catching me in a trance
and the sincerity of your glance, the sparkle
at times is terrifying as if it maims,
as if something gruesome shines in your eyes,
spread your web for me without a chance of escape
let smoke rise from sparks
in the temple of my heart
and when the fire alarms are wailing and I yearn for you
you have already caught me and can be silent,
you play your game and I my part to it;
glowing lights are radiating in the night.
VIII
Glowing lights are radiating in the night,
bringing joy to the dark hour
and in my veins power rushes
of passion’s glowing fire
of earthly desires, as if from the ground
burning through my blood
when your sparking mouth
let desires awake in a pouring flood
and creeping your hand sail over my chest
in flaming lust,
in the hour of deeper thirst
that only lips, hands and bodies can answer to,
it feels as if in emotions we are overstepping the mark;
tonight there is a potsherd moon.
IX
Tonight there is a potsherd moon
as if the moon is breaking in pieces
there’s only a piece of it glowing in the heaven
and very slowly
it rises in the sky, as if it is following the stars in its orbit
where it hangs high as apiece, until the morning comes eventually,
showing early morning still against the blue sky
until its brilliance disappears, suddenly wasted
and still it’s as if the moon has enchanted me,
with its rays and shadows
falling secretly over my whole life,
it enchants me with love
that I find without fear;
when you kiss me a star shoots past.
X
When you kiss me a star shoots past,
you are the sunshine of this summer,
you make me mad with passion,
as the answer to what my life is yearning for
and in the dark night
when you come and lie
somewhat afraid next to me, supple and soft
there’s passion that I read in your eyes.
Your lips stroke butterfly soft over my mouth,
at times only touches my cheek,
as if near to holy ground
free and never caught
with eyes at times gleaming secretively;
you smell of flowers blooming in spring.
XI
You smell of flowers blooming in spring
fresh, noble and sweet
and its as if thousands of streams flows through your eyes,
as if a glowing
is radiating out of them
but against your blouse sinful blossoms are showing,
an attraction, a stimulation that goes to your loins
where all promises, all relationships ends
as if you are the flower of flowers,
out of which all others come,
going the way of Eve, with great loving
drawing every man, to whom you glance astoundingly
and in this spring you smile at me,
as if you can free me from every other woman.
XII
As if you can free me from every other woman
with lasciviousness in every step,
you are only looking at me
and sometimes your eyes radiate like thunder
and when age come with the years,
will fire then still rise between us
when our youth disappears into the grey, bended in spent disguise,
beginning to show the road to eternity?
Will we then still know the meaning of love,
when all other things begin to fade away
like fog in the brain and memory
and will we still dare
where things now look lovely and heavenly
to look past the surface?
XIII
To look past the surface
how the terribly strong wind
is blowing the winter rain away,
one morning I was gazing with moisture blinding me
while the palm trees were waving around,
it was grabbing broken branches,
with the water in the distance looking grey in the bay
and I was walking unnoticed to your window
and I was wondering if you
would look down from the top window,
maybe would spot me, if I would be able to get in touch with you
and even that gloomy day was lustrous to me
as you love me in times of joy and sorrow;
now that winter is drawing skeleton.
XIV
Now that winter is drawing skeleton
with days bending like branches over me,
with a few birds rising calling into the air,
have I got to miss you, search for you for joy and meaning?
Am I still blinded
against the errors that you scream out,
where like all others you are caught in this age?
Still there’s something in me that wants to find you
and I dream right through the night
how your slender arms embrace me,
I see you in other faces during the day,
as if you are close to me
and I wonder what to expect of these things
while the leaves of the acorn are falling and perishing around me?
XV
Tonight for the first time I caught your gaze,
our friendship came suddenly,
like two jewels your eyes are shining,
by our own free will we are incorporated into each other.
You were twisting from sheer pleasure
when the cold rain pours down,
while you are doing your undressing dance,
flowing lights are radiating in the night.
Tonight there is a potsherd moon,
when you kiss me a star shoots past,
you smell of flowers blooming in spring,
as if you can free me from every other woman
to look past the surface
now that winter is drawing skeleton.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Shine.
Ur sweet smile shines down brightly upon my darken and withered soul like sunshine on a nice warm sunny summer day ur smile shines down on me like a bright light that reaches everywhere and anything ur smile makes me think of better times times o when i could go outside and look at the stars the brightest in which reminds me of your sparkling personality your heart in which is as bright as pure gold shines brightly it sparkles and glitters for all to see your spirit is strong one u are good to know and good to speak with for you i would take a bullet for hell probably even for you know how to put a smile upon my face when i am not smiling my heart glows when i hear from you the words from ur lips are like a pure morning everything is nice the sun rising the birds chirping the sky going from dark to bright blue the ever changing colors that is how a conversation with you is like u make my soul feel like it can shine for an eternity.
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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My Apocryphal Song of Songs
Song of Songs: Chapter one
When my darling is still slumbering
the blanket drawn up to her chin,
lying peaceful
I am without words
when the day brake red across the mountain’s comb
she is still stretched out
while the sun lovingly
stirs its first fingers
and when she moves
her big golden bracelet shines
pearls around her neck glitter
like the dewdrops
outside on the grass and trees,
like the golden colour of the sun
that now hangs high above the horizon
and I can catch the first white gleaming
of her smile
the morning wind swirls
singing over the glory
that she brings to my life
her eyes glitters brighter than the heaven
with their own rays and meaning
that is caught in her glance,
she looks lovely and fresh
and I know that God is blessing me
with her presence,
where He binds us together
in moments of time.
Song of Songs: Chapter two
I want to feel the rays of sun in your eyes
being lost over my body,
bending over your body
I want to take the core out of your soul,
I want to feel the pulse beat of your heart
in your naked breast,
through the pleasure and pain of this life
I want to long day after day for you
and abate all my passion, all my joy in you,
carrying you along through the times of my life,
catching moments in the glory of bliss,
making you to my most honourable aspiration
and tonight I want to come to you,
to make you mine.
Song of Songs: Chapter three
When I saw you
words curled up in my mouth,
my voice suddenly became hoarse
and I were wondering how your smile looks
while you were looking in my direction
and suddenly my thoughts were blunted off
when I saw passion in your eyes,
in my thoughts I had undressed you already,
removing your garments one by one,
but when your lips were burning beneath mine,
our conversation had dried up altogether
and we melted into each other: eye into eye.
Song of Songs: Chapter four
Your first kisses caught me,
with your bright eyes
later your lips were against my cheek
after which you and I
wanted more intimacy
with intensity hanging in every moment,
the sound of your voice was like the singing of birds
and closer contact we could not avoid
we french kissed
like mature people do
this kind of thing
with joy and scouting
and your eyes were full of intense wishes
with moments of passion and tenderness.
Song of Songs: Chapter five
When I stood below your window,
the light in you room went on suddenly
but it was no love-song,
but poems that I was presenting to you
of my love that I held out to you,
like a bush of red roses
and I believed
that you could hear them
right through your sleep.
Song of Songs: Chapter six
Early in the morning, when the fog was concealing the world,
your breath was caught against my cheek,
when the sun’s first rays were teasing with long fingers.
Early in the morning when the fog was concealing the world,
your breath was like the wind over mountains and valleys
while mist hanged like the breath of the world in the basins,
early in the morning when the fog was concealing the world,
when the sun’s first rays were teasing with long fingers.
Song of Songs: Chapter seven
Early morning with the call of guinea fowl in the field
the morning is already preparing,
the rays of the sun break through the nightly cloak,
the sun breaks through the nightly wall
with the day spreading to everywhere
like the gleaming of your eyes she smiles broadly.
Early morning with the call of guinea fowl in the field
the morning is already preparing,
and between you and me there’s an invisible band
that binds the essence of love with an oath,
you are with me through all happiness and sorrow,
I feel you nearness, even you small soft hand
early morning, with the call of guinea fowl in the field.
Song of Songs: Chapter eight
To sing of your beauty, I want to catch nature,
causing the sun’s rays to splash brightly on your cheek,
with my feelings at times caught in a labyrinth
we are bonded in the dark night to each other
with kisses hanging over our entire bodies.
Your eyes are bluer than the sky, your hair threaded out by the wind
and when you sleep I am already longing,
but in the mornings I too blinded by your smile
to sing of your beauty.
Sometimes you twist beneath me like a pretty snake,
the knowledge that we are mortal scares me,
I see the autumn tinted into your hair,
while you smile in a noble and innocent way like a child,
I try to catch that which is between us in words
to sing of your beauty.
Song of Songs: Chapter nine
In the pool of the fountain
the sky reflects cobalt blue
and shadows fall over the inner court
and there is images sprouting whirling in my mind
of me and of you
in the pool of the fountain
and you are like an angel surrounded by sunshine
where we cling to each other dripping wet
and shadows fall over the inner court
and even the wind blows with a song, a refrain
and there are pure white lilies that I look at
in the pool of the fountain
and the time spent with you is noble and pure
while we try to stretch moments to preserve them
and shadows fall over the inner court
drawing the two of us, line fall upon line
the sky reflects cobalt blue
in the pool of the fountain
and shadows fall over the inner court
Song of Songs: Chapter ten
With your lovely face
and bright blue eyes
you can at any time disrupt my life,
a single word causes me to believe in your love,
your soft lips, the blush on your cheek
and bright blue eyes
holds me captured,
the sound of your voice,
your soft lips, the blush on your cheek
clenches around my heart,
with your soft hand folding around mine,
the sound of your voice
is that of a beautiful woman
and with knowledge of how perfect you are to me
with your soft hand folding around mine,
you surprise me time and again.
With your lovely face
and with knowledge of how perfect you are to me
you can at any time disrupt my life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Tell Her, I AM
Tell her, I AM how beautiful you are
show her how to find your glory
in just one bright shining star
Send love in things that are bizarre
and peace in what is gory
tell her, I AM how beautiful you are
Let her know her life so far
is a truly great love story
in just one bright shining star
As she drinks the nectar
and fights off Satan's fury
tell her, I AM how beautiful you are
Remain her Lord - protect her
from every kind of worry
in just one bright shining star
As she grows helpless in a sector
and forgets momento mori
tell her, I AM how beautiful you are
in just one bright shining star
poem by Michelle Lowrie
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About Flowers And Trees
I
Why did the chrysanthemum wait long
to open it's quivering twisted rays?
When other flowers are gone it grows strong
in these much more colder wintry days
with cups making blossoms like anemones
some seen as feathery, plumed, or spidery
growing big or smaller in shaded tones,
in the winter portraying nature's imagery
in bronze, brown, purple, red, pink and white
with a single or semi-double blossom
growing to man's and the Creator's delight
when ripe makes growing very unwholesome.
Why was it not sprouting, rising, growing
at the beginning of the lovely spring?
II
At the beginning of the lovely spring
in the veldt among big acacia trees
when the first drops of rain are visiting,
drawing new life, flowers and buzzing bees
I find the bulbous hyacinth flowering,
and its appearance, its fragrance
is almost totally overpowering
when it makes its sudden appearance
with pale-blue petals of strings all opening
smelling like a tiny perfumery,
with bell shaped small cups that are hanging
bright among the green and brown scenery
displaying the joys of living and life,
many times have I counted groups of five.
III
Many times have I counted groups of five,
in things making the way that nature is
and have seen five eggs coming to live,
five leaves on flowers with five small bees.
Even on some trees that number is right
but strangely sometimes it might be wrong
and while in nature I walk along,
I see different flowers in a throng,
hear various birds singing their beautiful song,
there's something in all flowers, in each tree
that tells something about its makers will
who makes all things how they are to be
I have seen even five bundles to a sheaf;
the trees are butting in flower and leaf.
IV
The trees are butting in flower and leaf
as if some kind of magic word was said,
in rejoicing without any small grief,
the growing long green stems upwards do spread
as if new life has come to them again
like from scratch they are programmed to do,
after receiving power from summer rain
but like humans sometimes they do die too
carrying more bountiful each summer day
to the custom of their kind and their breed
till the summer suddenly dwindles away,
again they are stripped as if in need
and I like the fragrant fresh smell the best,
while walking through a huge pine forest.
V
While walking through a huge pine forest
a gentle wind like a friend greeted me
and for lingering long moments I did rest,
feeling from the whole big world somewhat free
and it was filled with the catching smell
of pine trees and soft in its embrace
for many moments long did I there dwell,
by songs of twittering birds amazed
and I then longed forever to be
among the flying birds, the buzzing bees
and the soft shadows, the tranquillity
of the peaked mountain, the large trees,
but sometimes lightning falls in a blue-white spark,
when the stormy wind blows strong in the dark.
VI
When the stormy wind blows strong in the dark
and the dark black evening suddenly glows
and the wind whispers with a howling bark
among the waving, rocking trees and throws
branches breaking, snapping, twisting, tearing;
you can hear that great savage strange beast
walking about, awoke from slumber stirring
during winter in the forest, in the east
suddenly coming to its greatest strength
somewhere in the thick enveloping fog
as the long night draws out darker at length
while its breaking, mauling log upon log,
from this windy monster I want to be free,
let me find some peace and tranquillity.
VII
Let me find some peace and tranquillity
at some places where man have never trod,
experience the greatest kind of beauty
that still is spared from the iron rod
with which man rules cities, huge countries
let me see miracles, see nature's joys,
away form buildings and big industries,
far away from the scorn, the manmade noise.
Let me smell some sweet wild flowers and lie
on wild grass to find nature's peace and rest
under a clear blue unpolluted sky,
away from even them whom I love best
and I wonder before the winter comes along,
why did the chrysanthemum wait long?
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Summons
Some day, when the golden glory
Of June is over the earth,
And the birds are singing together
In a wild, mad strain of mirth;
When the skies are as clear and cloudless
As the skies in June can be,
I would like to have the summons
Sent down from God to me.
Some glowing, golden morning
In the heart of the summer time,
As I stand in the perfect vigour
And strength of my youth's glad prime;
When my heart is light and happy,
And the word seems to bright to me,
I would like to dropp from this earth life,
As a green leaf drops from a tree.
I would not wait for the furrows -
For the faded eyes and hair;
But pass out swift and sudden,
Ere I grow heart-sick with care;
I would break some morn in my singing -
Or fall in my springing walk
As a full-blown flower will sometimes
Drop, all a-bloom, from the stalk.
I think the leaf would sooner
Be the first to break away,
Than to hang alone in the orchard
In the bleak November day.
And I think the fate of the flower
That falls in the midst of bloom
Is sweeter than if it lingered
To die in the autumn's gloom.
And so, in my youth's glad morning,
While the summer walks abroad,
I would like to hear the summons,
That must come, sometime, from God.
I would pass from the earth's perfection
To the endless June above:
From the fullness of living and loving,
To the noon of Immortal Love.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Pink Flower
Pink flower is beautiful
Always so much of anything
Playfully and never dull
As it is inside spring
Tenderly moments to bring on
To every summer night
Until its blossom is gone
With beautiful pinkish bright
Pink flower is like you
With all your loving touch
So much to make and do
If you are in love so much
Nothing is all like this
On to the blue light dark
With new spring dawn bliss
Shades of the petal spark
Fragrances in the air
Full of new summer high
Touching blossom everywhere
In the hours going by
Just like a love to come
When love touches heart
Flowering passion blossom
Now in these days will start
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Summer Light...
Summer Light -Thru the Trees
Summer Light - Spotted Me
Summer Light - Palest Gold
Summer Light - Bright and Bold
I Saw Summer Light Descend
Summer Light, Made Shadows Bend
Summer Light, On An Emerald Pond
I Reached Out… It Touched My Palm
Summer Light, It Fell Like Powder
Or a Floating Incandescent Feather
Came Down, Like A Sheer, White Swan
Summer Light – Lifted Wing-Like Arms
So Sunrays Slanted – Shone-Misty
Summer Light-Beams, Embraced Me
Warm, Wonderful Summer Light
Touch Me Tender, Solar- Might
Summer Light, When I Was Lost
Summer Light, Found Me Before Frost
Summer Light - None Else Looked For Me…
Summer Light Said, “I Always See…”
I Love Summer Light
poem by MoonBee Canady
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A Butterflies Beauty
Butterfly with beautiful wings,
Glides through the summer
breeze,
As the sun shines upon the wings,
Fluttering oh so silently,
Colors of the rainbow begin to
show brightly,
Like the beautiful colors of
the flowers,
Butterflies blend in so perfect,
Making nature look pretty,
Unique patterns on every wing
has its beautiful story,
Just like nature has its own
story,
Where beauty never ends,
Butterflies will always blend in
with almost anything,
Blending in with flowers, grass,
even trees tall and small,
Including a rest on a fawns little
nose,
It is only to say hi and thank you,
for letting me rest my wings,
Now I must be on my way to enjoy
the summer breeze,
Soon it will be winter and I will
have to leave,
No worries I will return when the grass
is green and trees grow their leaves,
When rivers flow with the sunshine warmth,
Animals tall and small roam again from
slumber,
Flowers blossom beautifully,
that is how you know I will return
again,
Fluttering upon the spring and summer
breeze,
All my family will also return to fill
nature with colorful beauty.
poem by Derek James
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