Cresting Wave Upon Wave
How do I thank someone
who defended me against
a bully, how express my
gratitude and joy when
someone beautiful, with
a sweet disposition - so
mischievous and brilliant -
takes my side
Do I jump up and down -
shine with the sun, smile
at everyone, sing a song
or meditate on the delight
of a most accomplished
and intelligent, attractive
and wonderful person
Fighting for my rights -
how convey my thanks
in terms that would do
credit to her, how do I
describe a kindness
that fills my heart?
Thank you Hanlie
does not seem
to be enough…
With Hanlie Sonnekus as captain,
June Fredericks as steersman,
Hermien Liebenberg as bo'sun
and me as sailor, our ship is
cresting wave upon wave
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Related quotes
Joys Of Life (Revised)
Luxuriously caressed by camaraderie, Hanlie weaving
such threads of happy, bright-smile delight; June being
mischievously buoyant, Hermien devoted to conscien-
tious duty and an elfin interest in what is going on
while Mapula looks great
Ulrike an uplifting perfectionist determined to never hurt
anybody, making sure everyone is OK – finally, end of
day; while I complain about my incompetency Hanlie
is laughing; feeling inferior is one of the perks of the
job - she happily claims
As translators too often feel superior to scholars con-
fining themselves to academic posts; June reporting
a ‘healthy’ person happily donating blood on request
while her own was refused due to iron deficiency, we
recommend bed rest and medicine
Quoting Madame la Pompadour’s amazing strategy -
Hanlie an epitome of inner beauty, June doing thank-
less proofreading jobs – while I glow with inner
delight, wafting home in joyous surrender
to the joys of life…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Floundering Ship
A great day sailing on the
floundering ship at the office,
Hanlie an elfish, mischievous
captain, June quietly at the helm,
Hermien swinging in the rigging
while I plotted a course through
the rapids of cascading words
spilling over my desk
Human Resources destabilised
the ship by throwing the compass
away yet we ploughed on, June
can't be deflected from steering
straight for the bay of organised
perfection while updating lists -
though Microsoft warns our
software is outlawed
Being illegal means we are a
pirate ship; now I understand why
everything is going awry, breaking
down, why tumultuous chaos follows
in our wake - and still the ship stays
afloat and we all have fun as we try
plying our trade and playing our
marvellous instruments
However lacking in melody, the
rhythm full of joie de vivre makes
up for every shortcoming…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Harps And Pitchforks
Came the clarion call – oh come, all officials, come
collect diaries and bags to prepare for next year,
obediently we trooped downstairs to receive a
mousepad flashing in orange fluorescence
Took an extra one for Madame Pompadour - missing
in action again; Hanlie took one for June who refused
to leave her chair, too enamoured of her computer
to move at all, this morning June lamented:
Vanity, vanity, all vanity; Hanlie checked Ecclesiastes
for grasshopper similes in four languages: Afrikaans,
English, German and French - June said she would
read the Apocrypha during December
I said I love Muslim stories about Jesus as a real little
cowboy when He was small – said to have shrivelled
his teacher’s arm – Hermien objected, claiming ‘The
little boy Jesus was as sweet as an angel! ’
Hermien has three sons herself, how can she believe it?
Humming happily I returned to my desk, started to edit
recalcitrant documents thinking; soon I shall be in the
veld - golden grass and the glorious sun
In an ineffable African sky – why should I worry whether
Hermien has seen the Apocrypha at all - the picture of the
little Jesus will forever hold sway in my heart - and since
the Church Fathers rejected reincarnation
I accept reincarnation as fact, rejoicing about life ever-
lasting - beyond harps and pitchforks…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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16.07.2009 Sparkles In The Air (Rev.)
Wise and magical as Nanny Ogg and Granny
Weatherwax are Hanlie and June concocting
magical forms that do sums in proof of what
we’ve done so preparing a production sheet
becomes a breeze
It’s as good as having Hogwart’s Sorting Hat on
my head, the form reads my mind and gives me
answers telling my life, June showed me how
to gain more time for translations, Hanlie gave
me leave to do more research
Forgetting magic requires special treatment
Jane destroyed the form without respect; the
magical form inspired me to new agricultural
heights, safe within the form’s woven web
calculating fun allotted everyone
sparkles in the air, joy in the office – brought
about by our two local witches, June Ogg and
Hanlie Weatherwax; Jane could be Magrat the
confused and I could be Perdita, singing for
Christine in Maskerade…
From: Terry Pratchett “Lords and Ladies” and
“Maskerade” - two clever witches, Granny
Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg, a young witch
Magrat and a younger witch, Perdita, who
likes to sing.
poem by Margaret Alice
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What Can Be Better (Rev)
As the day is simply beautiful I drove to
work with a song in my heart, a smiling
Pollyanna greeting me, agreed it better
to end being eaten by the last cannibal
tribe than languishing quietly at home
Heidi impishly explains imaginary pains,
nothing daunts her resolute spirit; Mme La
Pompadour sends a note she’s ferrying the
whole old-age home around, while Maria
Von Trapp’s engaged on the family estate
Drove a posse of my son’s friends home
to celebrate exuberance of life, promised
I’d stop running technically red lights (tho’
yellow on approach) – I know if I project a
submissive spirit at road signs
They shall assume safely I am indeed the
stopping kind and only unkindly traffic will
overwhelm me; leaving the happy team I
return here to create stream-lined text in
Afrikaans – what can be better than that?
Pollyanna = Hanlie
Heidi = June
Mme La Pompadour = Our supervisor
Maria Von Trapp = Hermien
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Square Wave In Unison
Made a noise invented a sound
When brian wilson used it a hit was found
If only I could have imagined
The square waves running through his head
Square wave - people couldnt believe it
Square wave - all the way to carnegie hall
Square wave
One rod for pitch
Electro magnetic fields
Wired up sing sing
Hung out with einstein
For all all of his brilliant innovation
Sent off to a siberian reservation
Square wave - people couldnt believe it
Square wave - all the way to carnegie hall
Square wave
song performed by by Beastie Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sailor's Observation
The sailor stood on the deck of his ship
looking out at the sea, while the sun
blazed a golden yellow hue on the horizon.
As the ship rocked side to side, the
sailor's thoughts drifted, as they
sailed into the setting sun.
"I think the sunset is the best time of the
evening," the sailor thought to himself.
The sun's glorious color reflected its'
light off the clouds and streamed through
the breaks in the clouds.
A sunset as sea is so beautiful
that it takes your breath away.
You cannot see a sunset like this
anywhere else.
Heartland
George jr.:
When you hear twin fiddles and a steel guitar
You're listenin' to the sound of the american heart
And opry music on a saturday night
Brings a smile to your face and a tear to your eye
Sing a song about the heartland
The only place i feel at home
Sing about the way a good man
Works until the daylight's gone
Sing the rain on the roof on a summer night
Where they still know wrong from right
Sing a song about the heartland
Sing a song about my life
George:
There's a place where mornings are an endless blue
And you feel mother nature along with you
Where simple people livin' side by side
Still wave to their neighbor when they're drivin' by
Sing a song about the heartland
Sing a song about the heartland
Sing a song about my life
song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shrinking (Revised)
Why does a conversational ploy that charms
one colleague fall flat on its face for others?
When I enact a little tragi-comedy for Hanlie
she embroiders the tales I tell, brings out the
hidden glitter in every situation and adds joy
by weaving her wan spell -
but when I share the same anecdote with
other colleagues my story loses its appeal,
I feel guilt and fatigue, and the story shrivels
up and dies; a more robust, feisty colleague
simply kills the story by pulling down corners
of her mouth -
thus, with Hanlie on leave, I already know
why life at work keeps shrinking
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Spectacular Failure
Ran into the office this morning to confess
the French mess to Hanlie, my Stoic Spartan
colleague, as I started to tell her of the chaos
in class – my passionate explanation why
Dominique Strauss-Kahn thought Tristane
Banon came to him with a mysterious plan
Given the title of her book “Male Mistakes”*
immediately suggesting he should illustrate
what it meant, given his fling with Tristane’s
mother, Anne Mansouret, he did not know
Tristane was never told, he thought Tristane
wanted to see his Cro-Magnon approach -
Marine confused; sweet Rima scared; Marius
angered by Strauss-Kahn’s lack of respect for
women and ethics, disorder obscuring the
brilliant explanation of incomprehensible
events, Hanlie laughed with me about my
spectacular failure to communicate….
Anne Mansouret never told her daughter,
Tristane Banon, that she had a wild fling
with Dominique Strauss-Khan; so when
her daughter approached Khan with a
suggestive title for a book, he thought
she wanted to taste the same forbidden
fruit, totally unaware she never knew
about the wild side of life…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Heat Wave
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The temperatures rising,
It isnt surprising,
She certainly can can-can.
She started a heat wave
By letting her seat wave
In such a way that
The customers say that
She certainly can can-can.
Gee, her anatomy
Makes the mercury
Jump to ninety-three.
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The way that she moves
That thermometer proves
That she certainly can can-can.
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heat Wave
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The temperatures rising,
It isnt surprising,
She certainly can can-can.
She started a heat wave
By letting her seat wave
In such a way that
The customers say that
She certainly can can-can.
Gee, her anatomy
Makes the mercury
Jump to ninety-three.
Were having a heat wave,
A tropical heat wave,
The way that she moves
That thermometer proves
That she certainly can can-can.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Heart... So Blue
Ive got her picture
Its there on the wall
I cant remember why
I keep it at all
The doors are cold and
All the windows seem grey
I write the book
Theres so much more I should say
Wave goodbye
See my heart...so blue
Wave goodbye
See my heart...so blue
And now its over
I write it all down
No one to notice
One less face in the crowd
Our eyes are open
When it suits us to say
Dear God in heaven
Show no mercy to me
Wave (wave) goodbye
See my heart...so blue
Wave (wave) goodbye
Lost for you
I shed no tears
And theres no reason for shame
A small consolation
Hides a stone with her name
Just a victim
Still the light shines all bright
Ive got her picture
Think Ill hold it tonight
Wave goodbye
See my heart...so blue
Wave goodbye
See my heart...so blue
Wave (wave) goodbye
See my heart...so blue
Wave (wave) goodbye
Lost for you
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now Im Nothing
I smashed myself to pieces
I am gonna f**k myself up
Im sifting through the ashes
Oh what I have become
I gave myself away now Im nothing
I let it slip away now Im nothing
All that I can do is break myself in two
I f**ked it all away now Im nothing
Wave wave wave wave goodbye
Wave wave wave wave goodbye
Written and performed by: trent reznor
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song for June's Smile
A song for June's smile,
When love is still so young;
Though summer has been awhile,
To become colored and strong.
Each heart is then retrieved,
To tones we imagined away;
When love is back received,
On a beautiful summer day.
A song for each my flame,
Blazing in your sweetness;
Though hearts stay not the same,
They return new and fresh.
All love is between two,
Consonant to win delight;
It is then all up to you,
Whether it burns on bright.
A song for June's smile,
With passions retuning along;
For each love is so fertile,
Can be the best summer song.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Awareness (Revised)
Awareness of beauty grows lavishly while seated
among Jacaranda trees, green canopies caress
the sun with more divinity than mere words
embrace – it makes my heart swell in music ‘til
lighter than air I float off on the breeze
Luckily we are government officials anchored to
chairs facing a grindstone patiently; at least my
brave Calvinist colleagues are the most upstanding
people I have ever met and cannot be deterred by
anything as fractious as sheer beauty;
Hanlie spreading good humour & delight wherever
she is; Hermien’s unselfconscious efficiency graced
with the calm of a state secretary; June brisk, tone
always crisp, laughter infectious, smile as precious
as jewels hidden deep in the earth,
And the boss Madame La Pompadour is an exact
replica of ‘Madame Olympia’, staying home under
various pretexts so as to not sully her soul by noise
of the open-plan office, and me growing more like
Madame Medusa in ‘The Rescuers’
Driving is my favourite activity, trying to beat each
other robot, succeeding mostly; slow lane overtaking
when the fast crawls at a snail’s pace, enjoying the
exhilaration of evading other motorists, my liberties
sometimes earn aggressive gestures
I merely respond with a smile, blissfully threatening
pedestrians with amazing goodwill while continuing
this enticing technological dance, my mind delighting
in nirvana of a Zen-like trance…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Wave Of Mutilation
Cease to resist, giving my goodbye
Drive my car into the ocean
Youll think Im dead, but I sail away
On a wave of mutilation
A wave
Wave
Ive kissed mermaids, rode the el nino
Walked the sand with the crustaceans
Could find my way to mariana
On a wave of mutilation,
Wave of mutilation
Wave of mutilation
Wave
Wave of mutilation
Wave
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aboard At A Ship's Helm
ABOARD, at a ship's helm,
A young steersman, steering with care.
A bell through fog on a sea-coast dolefully ringing,
An ocean-bell--O a warning bell, rock'd by the waves.
O you give good notice indeed, you bell by the sea-reefs ringing,
Ringing, ringing, to warn the ship from its wreck-place.
For, as on the alert, O steersman, you mind the bell's admonition,
The bows turn,--the freighted ship, tacking, speeds away under her
gray sails,
The beautiful and noble ship, with all her precious wealth, speeds
away gaily and safe.
But O the ship, the immortal ship! O ship aboard the ship! 10
O ship of the body--ship of the soul--voyaging, voyaging, voyaging.
poem by Walt Whitman
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How’s My Boy?
“HO, Sailor of the sea!
How’s my boy—my boy?”
“What’s your boy’s name, good wife,
And in what good ship sail'd he?”
“My boy John— He that went to sea—
What care I for the ship, sailor?
My boy's my boy to me.
“You come back from sea,
And not know my John?
I might as well have ask’d some landsman
Yonder down in the town.
There ’s not an ass in all the parish
But he knows my John.
“How’s my boy—my boy?
And unless you let me know
I’ll swear you are no sailor,
Blue jacket or no,
Brass buttons or no, sailor,
Anchor and crown or no!
Sure his ship was the ‘Jolly Briton’”—
“Speak low, woman, speak low!”
“And why should I speak low, sailor,
About my own boy John?
If I was loud as I am proud
I’d sing him over the town!
Why should I speak low, sailor?”
“That good ship went down.”
“How’s my boy—my boy?
What care I for the ship, sailor?
I was never aboard her.
Be she afloat or be she aground,
Sinking or swimming, I’ll be bound,
Her owners can afford her!
I say, how’s my John?”
“Every man on board went down,
Every man aboard her.”
“How’s my boy—my boy?
What care I for the men, sailor?
I’m not their mother—
How’s my boy—my boy?
Tell me of him and no other!
How ’s my boy—my boy?”
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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A June-Tide Echo
(After a Richter Concert.)
In the long, sad time, when the sky was grey,
And the keen blast blew through the city drear,
When delight had fled from the night and the day,
My chill heart whispered, " June will be here!
" June with its roses a-sway in the sun,
Its glory of green on mead and tree."
Lo, now the sweet June-tide is nearly done,
June-tide, and never a joy for me
Is it so much of the gods that I pray?
Sure craved man never so slight a boon!
To be glad and glad in my heart one day--
One perfect day of the perfect June.
Sweet sounds to-night rose up, wave upon wave;
Sweet dreams were afloat in the balmy air.
This is the boon of the gods that I crave--
To be glad, as the music and night were fair.
For once, for one fleeting hour, to hold
The fair shape the music that rose and fell
Revealed and concealed like a veiling fold;
To catch for an instant the sweet June spell.
For once, for one hour, to catch and keep
The sweet June secret that mocks my heart;
Now lurking calm, like a thing asleep,
Now hither and thither with start and dart.
Then the sick, slow grief of the weary years,
The slow, sick grief and the sudden pain;
The long days of labour, the nights of tears--
No more these things would I hold in vain.
I would hold my life as a thing of worth;
Pour praise to the gods for a precious thing.
Lo, June in her fairness is on earth,
And never a joy does the niggard bring.