Biography of Daleen Enslinstrydom
Daleen is the name that I want people to call me. I am happily married to the poet Gert Strydom and I am a mother, grandmother and people are important to me. I do love gardening, housekeeping and Jackie, my Jack-Russell crossbreed.
When I can find some time I do paint and at times I do write my thoughts to paper. I am a champion of equality among people and do believe that everyone have got the right to a life. The creator is the most important person in my life and I believe in Him with a fixed confidence
Darleen comes from the old-English name “dale” that means “she is living in the valley, ” as a dedicated friend that supports people through times of gladness and hardship, somebody who brings joy to life, somebody who is beloved, awakec full of energy, the caretaker of broken hearts, not a easy person but a woman who is virtuous and loved by children
© Copyright: Helena Dorothy Enslin-Strydom for all poems on this webpage.
- Mom, You Are A Miracle -new-
Daleen Enslinstrydom Poems
The Hands Of A Farmer
I have known those hands all of my life and many times I have looked at those hands, at big rough hands that worked the fields and calluses in their palms tell a own story
Mom, You Are More Than Just A Mother’s D...
Mom, you are more than just a mother’s day mother, you are the one that really do understand all of the things that goes on in a child’s heart as you were a child too
Joy and sadness goes hand in hand on life’s journey to somewhere, promises and fulfilment
Obsession is not a word to describe my fascination with chocolates. Milk chocolates that melt in you mouth
I Do Hate My Job
and I have seen so much sorrow in these past few years and when I get out of my car in front of a rundown house
Under The Shade Of The Big Old Oak Tree
Under the shade of the old oak tree Jafta sit and his mind wanders back as he reflects on his life while the sun sets in the west. He is overcome with sorrow to braking point,
A Mother’s Work Is Never Done 
In the basin the old wrinkled hands are quiet for a while and her head is bowed in reverence while a tear runs down her face and if you should ask about it
The School Fair
The time of year had come again when our school was having a fair. Letters that beg and plea for helping hands,
Bread And Meat For Breakfast
With small beady eyes you are watching me and do appear with your round body where you are sitting on your hind legs and are rubbing your hands together
My Word Wizard
You got out of bed, opened the curtains to let the sun come through and turned back to me with a smile saying:
Am I My Brother’s Keeper?
“Am I my brother’s keeper? ” Cain did asked the Lord, in a answer of what God had asked him and I wonder am I?
The Empty Sky
The scarlet rosy moon hangs over the escarpment of the purple rinsed mountains as if it was painted in the sky and over the villa the stars glisten and glimmer
Forgiving And Forgetting
Do each one of us walk the paths of remembering that leads to the hideaway place of yesterday? Do we still seek the pain
The Fox In The Hen Coop
The moon hangs low over the valley and the stars flicker in the distance while the night is cold and foggy and this is the time
Caught in the act she fears them,
hears their voices
as they drag her like an animal to the slaughterhouse
while her prosecutors pulls her by the hair
to the pebbled courtyard
where she stumbles and she is naked
and she knows that she is guilty
while her heart pounds anxiously in her chest,
uneasily she grasps for air.