The meeting
I caught your eye
in the Afrikaans literature class
while studying business
at the private university
and you watched me
but the day your car cooked
on the soccer field,
we really met.
I saw your car parked
on the soccer field
and asked Marthinus
my roommate and friend
why it’s parked there?
He said that it belonged
to a really beautiful girl
who probably has trouble with it,
but that people like him and me
didn’t have a chance
with a girl like you.
So I asked him to introduced us
and your eyes were like the sky,
but not blue,
ever changing
sometimes green and brown
and your auburn hair
glittered in the sun.
I fiddled with a connector on the fan
and suddenly it came on
and when I looked
into your eyes
it was into your soul.
You smiled like an angel
and like magic
we were as if alone
and I was under your spell
and when I smiled back
it did something to you
and I knew
that you were the girl for me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
One Leg Anne and the Innocent Flirt.
Sister Mary pushed Anne
in her wheelchair
to the white table
where you were sitting
with Lydia Sad
and Malcolm
and a curly headed girl
with burn scars
on her face and neck
there
said the nun
here you can sit
and wait for breakfast
and catch the morning sun
Anne looked glumly
at the sky
and said nothing
as the nun
walked away
I wonder
what's for breakfast?
Malcolm asked
stewed cat on toast
Anne said
looking at Lydia Sad
whose blonde hair
and blue eyes
gave her
an angelic look
that's horrible
the girl with burn scars said
don't eat it then
Anne said
Malcolm looked at you
it wouldn't be that
would it?
He asked
no
you said
Anne's just having you on
why do you have to spoil
my fun Skinny Boy?
Anne said
it's not funny
Lydia muttered
not funny to say that
about cats being on toast
how are your haemorrhoids?
Anne asked Lydia
saw the fat nun
giving you the bum pill
Lydia blushed
and Malcolm looked
at the white table top
I'm telling Sister Bernadette
about you
the girl with burn scars said
go put your head
between your thighs
and breathe the air
Anne said
the girl got up
and left the table
followed by Lydia
and Malcolm
that's got rid of them
Skinny Boy
Anne said
why are you so horrible?
you asked
looking at her red skirt
just covering the stump
of her amputated leg
have a good look Skinny Boy
and she pulled up
her skirt to reveal
the naked flesh
and plump stump
you noticed
how the scar
seemed to pull
into a smooth redness
what do you think?
Anne asked
I've seen it before
you replied
when?
She asked
you showed me
the other week
while you were being weight
in the bathroom
she smiled
and pulled down
her skirt
I like you Skinny Boy
you're just
an innocent flirt
and she laughed
and her wheelchair rocked
and you smiled
and wondered
what she meant
by the word flirt
and looked discreetly
at her short red skirt.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Outshining the Sun.
Bob West said
why are you always
looking towards
the girl's playground?
Looking for someone
you replied
who? Bob asked
A girl who gets
on my school bus
Bob pulled a face
and combed
his black oily hair
is she good looking?
Like an angel
you said
and peered
at the playground
across the way
where girls were
skipping or walking
in pairs
See her yet?
Bob asked
no not yet
you muttered
wishing you had
hoping she'd come
into view
don't see any point in girls
Bob said
putting his comb away
in a top pocket
wiping his hands
on his grey trousers
my dad said
they're only after two things
money and babies
steer away from them Bob
he said
you watched
as girls moved
about the playground
each dressed in grey skirts
and green tops
haven't you ever
been moved by a girl?
You asked
moved? Bob said
moved?
Ain't no girl
going to move me
he muttered
spit hanging
on his lower lip
like a suicidal
waiting to jump
what's this angel girl got
that's so special?
He said taking out
a handkerchief
and wiping his brow
I don't know
you replied
and as you said it
you saw her
come in to view
outshining the sun
more beautiful
than summer
and staring at you.
poem by Terry Collett
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Dreams are not reality for M 'lady Ann Beard
Dreams are not reality
She was not fat nor was she thin
but rather somewhere in between.
She was not dark nor was she fair
for she was blessed with auburn hair
Her eyes were neither brown nor blue
but of a subtle sea green hue
She was not bold se was not shy
but always acted modestly
She had a brain which she could use.
Quite unafraid to state her views.
By nature she was sweet and kind.
The ideal girl I had in mind.
I searched but unsuccessfully
Perhaps I set my sights too high
Still single at thirty and two.
I met and fell in love with you.
I knew you were the one for me
and I surrendered easily.
Gave up my foolish fantasy
and recognised reality.
I was not meant to be alone
I think that I had always known.
Some day somewhere there had to be
A real girl not a fantasy.
So I asked you to marry me
in the faint hope you would agree.
Overjoyed when you said yes
I could forget my loneliness.
We face the world now side by side
I have some reason now for pride.
Because you love me I must be
a better man than I could see.
Until I looked into your eyes
and saw you saw me as a prize.
27-Nov-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Margaret Alice Song
Margaret Alice
Come and follow me
All the way to that soccer field
During the nigut
I know you think that sounds crazy
But just trust me for once
And follow me alll the way to that Soccer field
Because I want you to see the stars that shines at night
In the sky at the soccer field
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Soccer
Soccer
Have you ever been on a soccer field?
Well if you haven't it’s the m amazing thing
It’s like being in heaven but on grass
When the grass is just cut and the potato bugs are jumping in the air it gives you energy to have fun
And if you have been on a field then you know how the freshly cut grass
stings your nose and enlightens your heart to give you extra strength to
play soccer harder than you ever have in your life. That is what it’s like being on a soccer field!
By: Isaiah Bess
poem by Isaiah Bess
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The Summer Recess of 62.
It was the second day
of the summer recess
and Judith and you
walked through the field
behind her house
and sat down on the grass
the sky above blue
like an upside-down ocean
with the white clouds
like small fluffy islands
and she said
Mother doesn't trust you
why not?
you asked
she doesn't trust any male
she says they're all after
the one thing
you looked at her
sitting there beside you
her hair brown and curly
and her eyes blue
and bright
and you said
not all males
are the same
she looked up
at the sky
and said
I know but that's
how she sees things
my mother likes you
you said
she says you're good for me
keep me focused
she smiled
and lay back
on the grass
and you lay
beside her
and turned
to look at her there
taking in her profile
and she turned
to face you
and she said
does your mother
trust us to be together?
sure she does
you said
an airplane
went over the sky
a sparrow hawk
hovered above
its eyes watching
and waiting
you put your hand
on her hip
and she placed
her hand on yours
you felt her hipbone
beneath her green skirt
moved your palm
gently over and over
she moved your hand
off of her hip
and said
just in case
mother's looking at us
from the upstairs window
would she?
you asked
of course
she said
she held your hand
and took it
and laid it
on her breast
her heart
somewhere beating
your hand sensing
the softness beneath
the white blouse
and she said
just as well
she never saw us
last Christmas
and you smiled
and remembered
and the sparrow hawk
flew off through the sky
and the sound
of a distant train
and your heart thumping
like the downpour of rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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Cedric's Message.
Cedric approached you
in the playground and said
My sister Christina
wants to see you
on the playing field lunchtime
and he said it
in a quiet voice
as if he didn't want
the other boys to hear
he ran messages for girls
and off he went
to play with some other boys
leaving you to stare out
onto the empty playing field
and so lunch time
after you'd eaten dinner
you went onto the playing field
beneath the summer sun
and there she was
over by the wire fence
waiting for you
and you said
Cedric said you wanted to see me
and she said
Yes do you mind
if we walk off alone together
I don't want other's ears
to move in on our conversation
No sure
you said
Let's go over by the woods
by the far fence
and so you walked off with her
across the playing field
by other kids who were playing
football or sitting talking
or playing skip rope
or whatever
and when you came
to the woods
you sat down with her
and she said
You do love me
don't you?
I mean you're not
seeing anyone else?
You looked across
the playing field
to where you'd sat
with another
some months before
and she had asked
the same question
but since then
it had turned
momentarily sour
Yes and no
you said
looking back at her
taking in her dark hair
and deep eyes
and how her hand
lay on her thigh
covered by grey skirt
and her naked knees
just visible
to the eye
What do you mean
yes and no?
she asked
you watched
her lips move
and replied
Yes I love you
and no I'm not
seeing another
and she smiled at you
and put her hand on yours
and waited for a kiss
and so you did
her lips on yours
out by the woods
on that summer day
out of doors.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perfection! Lady!
Because I am F
Uk! UK U k uk White War!
Stand up 1 comedy
C O COrporation! Moden Madamme
modey @
TV
Chennel;
Is
The smile:
smile and miles of smile
And you still smile
and I am smiling and smiling
and you did not even notice
or took only notice
Or you already have a recipe
For a perfect smile
and this lady play
soccer
or game that looks like soccer
with her boobs
on my friend
at the same time
she is playing with me
and my smile
my comfort zone
my cornfield
in my mind
through my eyes
it is burning,
I want to burn her field
her soccer
and she knows
she knew
she
knows
that!
in advance!
she hides her hands
to expose her chest
hide and hide
type of woman, girl
childish
type of kid game
the only difference
I have
A hope
is to
take her
home
to calm
caam! Kasperjec
kasparove
big blue
her burned
finger.
come here
let me see
why your nipple
get red
are you finger burning
or just your nipples are
getting
hotter and burning red.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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True Beauty
When a pretty girl walks down the street,
All the people want to meet.
This girl with slim hips and golden hair,
This girl that everybody wants to stare.
But I sit and ask myself, what is beauty?
Is true beauty not found in stealth?
Because this golden girl has no manners,
When she curses she never stammers.
The golden girl, who at the flick of her hand,
Would make sure all knew where they stand.
Yet when I came across a shy lady,
Who seemed a tad too shady;
She politely said hello and smiled keen,
And was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
poem by Lenore Lee
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A Crush
It's about a girl.
Possibly the most attractive girl I've ever known.
I was quite taken with her,
almost from the very begining.
Brown eyes and black hair.
Small and skinny.
So proper in all the right ways.
I was in love with her and I still am.
I long now for this wonderful girl.
So beautiful and comely.
I'll spend my life longing for this wonderful and beautiful girl.
I'm sorry I never had a chance to be with her.
poem by Michael McParland
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You and Jackson Pollock.
How's the girl
with the red beret?
your sister asked
she'd seen you
and Janice
and her gran
on the way home
from school
she probably walking
with her friend
following behind
and Janice said
I made a picture today
out of cut up
pieces of paper
and the teacher said
it was the best
she'd seen
her gran said
Now now Janice
mustn't boast
I expect
there were other pictures
equally as good
But teacher said it
not me
Janice replied
Did you make a picture?
her gran asked you
her eyes falling on you
and taking in
your look
like a rabbit caught
in headlamps of a car
in the night
Yes
you said
I made a picture
of a morning sunset
out of red and yellow
and green for the grass
and blue for the sky
Janice smiled
and touched your hand
surreptitiously
her small hand
feeling along
your skin
Did you make it
out of cut up
pieces of paper too?
her gran asked
you sensed Janice's fingers
squeezing into your hand
No
you replied
I did it with water colour paints
and what did teacher say?
her gran asked
she said it reminded her
of a Jackson Pollock
whoever he is
you said
looking at Janice's red beret
and her hair
coming from beneath
so wonderfully
unlike your
short back and sides
and unlike her hair
with its red coloured
hair slides.
poem by Terry Collett
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And You Don’t Remember Me
I sat on the park bench
pen and notebook in hand.
I watched all the people
as they passed on by.
I wondered how in life
each one of them had fared
with their happiness
and their sorrows.
I looked for inspiration
for something to write.
She looked at me and smiled,
I smiled back
thinking that was that.
“You don’t remember me? ”
She said and sat down.
I looked at her again
as memories swirled
around in my mind.
She was right
I didn’t remember her
Her hair was mousey colour
with flecks of grey
starting to appear here and there.
There were thick lines
across her forehead,
crow feet lines
near the corners of her eyes.
The corners of her mouth
drooped just slightly.
Her blues eyes were striking
and I knew I had seen them before,
but they were with a younger face
a long time ago.
A face that lit up
whenever she spoke.
“You still don’t remember me? ”
She asked once again.
I shook my head,
but unfortunately, I did.
I could remember
all the beauty
she had had in her youth,
before time had ravaged her
and taken away her beauty
and her youth.
She looked so sad.
I wanted to reach out
like I always wanted to,
but something deep inside,
a little voice you could call it,
kept telling me no.
My urge to hold her
was trying to win out,
but I couldn’t do it.
She was no longer
a part of my life.
All she was now
was a memory I clung to,
a memory of my youth
so long, long ago.
With notebook and pen,
I smiled and bit her farewell.
I whispered her name
as I said a last goodbye.
I didn’t look back
or I would have looked back with regret.
She was a past,
something none of us can ever relive.
poem by David Harris
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Maybe I am looking at Eve
Two paintings
look back at me:
The one girl is shy
and stripped to her middle
with auburn hair
covering a breast
and the other
hanging round and firm
tipped by
a pink brown nipple.
The big eyes of the other
are greener than grass
and laurel is wreathed
through her auburn hair
hanging in strings
of a fairy like girl
whose complexion
glows pink and alive
and she’s dressed
in big green leaves
holding some purple lavender
in a unseen hand
and I like to think
that both paintings
shows the same girl
and maybe
I am looking at Eve.
[Reference: Keys to your heart and Fairy Queen by Mandi Engelbrecht. (These paintings belongs to me.) ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Girl Who Held Your Hand
You got on the coach
for the day trip
organized by the chapel people
for kids who were poor
and this girl
sat next to you
and said
you can be my boyfriend
for the day
and she took hold
of your hand
and gave it a squeeze
and you looked out
of the window
at your mother
standing there
looking up at the coach
and you thought
is this part of the deal?
Is this girl for real?
And Mother waved
and smiled
and you smiled
uneasily back
with the girl’s hand
holding yours
out of sight
and she looked
over your shoulder
and waved
but no one
waved back to her
because her mother
wasn’t there
maybe she was off somewhere
or had to go to work
or maybe
she was still in bed
with another uncle
beneath the sheets
and maybe
he was holding her hand
and she was holding
something you never knew
or cared about
just sitting there
waving to Mother
beneath a sky of blue.
poem by Terry Collett
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Like That Other Girl
im sorry im not perfect
like that other girl
with the bright blue eyes
and the pin straight blonde hair
that girl with perfect skin
that skinny girl
with all the money
im sorry im not perfect
like that other girl
i was born with green eyes not blue
blondes not mi couler
im sorry if that dissapoints you
i think mi freckles are beautiful
anorexia is not mi diet
im only vegetarian
i dont need money to be happy
im sorry im not perfect
like that other girl
and fake is not mi style
but hopefully youll accept me and the reasons why..
poem by Shelby De Coff
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Beautiful Girl
Never seen such a beautiful girl
Got me shaking inside
Calling on me from deep within her eyes
Not the kind you go handing around
Want to keep her right there
But this love it dont come as no surprise
And when I saw the way that she smiled at me
I knew it there and then that she was a 1
And then I felt the way she was touching me
Was something I had known I was waiting upon
Never seen such a beautiful girl
Had me quickly untied
Calling to me she made me realize
Not the kind that is lost or is found
She has always been there
A lover needed for this soul to survive
And when I saw the way that she smiled at me
I knew it there and then that she was a1
And when I felt the way she got through to me
Was something I had know I was waiting upon
Never seen such a beautiful girl
Got me shaking inside
Calling on me from deep within her eyes
Not the kind you go handing around
Want to keep her right there
But this love it dont come as no surprise
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Girl
Young girl Abused and broken
Young girl Alone and Frightened
Young girl Worthless and Ugly
Young girl feels so alone
She has no one to hold her
Young girl's father to drunk to even care
The young girl gets beaten everyday
The young girl wanting to runaway
Young girl will not leave her father alone
Like he has done to her
This young girl's teacher has a note
She reads the note aloud to the class
This young girl was beaten to death
No one had the guts to save her
This young girl bruised and dead
This young girl buried in the cold ground
This young girl has no one to visit her grave
No one asked her how she got her bruises
No one even took a second chance
Goodbye young girl fly away into the arms of God
For He loved you and always will
This young girl happy again
poem by Jasmine Kayleen
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(Say) You're My Girl
Hello, may I have this dance with you?
How have you been, girl?
Hold me, and then girl
just let me look at you.
Tell me, now, is it true?
Oh, did you break up?
No chance to make up.
I hate to take up all your time,
but tell me.
Oh, no it won't be repeated.
You mean to tell me he cheated?
Oh, what a fool he's been
Though he is, my best friend
I hate it this way,
But I've waited for this day.
I've always wanted
You to be my girl.
Be my girl, you're my girl.
I still don't believe it
he played around on you.
When all the time he knew
I loved you too
With your big eyes,full lips,
High cheek bones,
And ev'rything about you, girl.
Personality girl,
Gimme a chance, come on,
Let's dance,some
Dance the night awa--y;
You're my girl.you're my girl, you're my girl.
Baby doll, baby, baby, hold me tight.
Be mine tonight, say it's alright.
And I will never, ever let you go, oh...
Be my girl, be my girl,
you're my girl.you're mine,
you're my girl.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I will always be that girl
I will always be the girl who laughs at yesterdays jokes.
Who prances around and never gloats.
The one girl you never see cry.
Cuz another girl stole her guy.
The one girl who is full of cheer.
That one girl who may seem alittle weird.
I will always be remembered as the girl who smiled.
Whos temper was untamed and hair flew wild.
Because that girl will never cry.
The one whos smile will never die.
I will always be that girl.
Who smiles in her perfect world.
poem by Silence Dogood
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Girl In Park
Girl in the Park
In the park I saw my dog Bambi, she was playing with
another dog that belonged to a girl who sat in the grass.
Bambi didn’t see me she had a glossy coat, and looked
beautiful, so I waited for her to see me and come over.
The girl was of no interest, looked as a black & white
photo taken with box camera 1950, I didn’t see her face.
She got up and walked into a café its door was open but
the entrance had a curtain of fake pearls that sounded as
of water in a stream, when moved. The park was empty
and there was no ducks in it dark pond. I walked into
the café, it was empty too; the owner was reading
a paper I asked if he had seen a girl with two dogs, he
said dogs were not allowed in his café, and continued to
read and for no reason at all I sat down and cried.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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