Diana van den Berg

Rookie - 372 Points (4 November 1945 / Durban, South Africa)

Diana van den Berg Poems

1. Sunday Comfort 2/12/2009
2. Re-Awakening 2/12/2009
3. My Study At Night 2/13/2009
4. Initiation (To Live Poets Society) 2/13/2009
5. Solution To Lovelessness 2/14/2009
6. Theatre 2/17/2009
7. Reconciliation Day 2/16/2009
8. On A Hill Not Far Away 2/22/2009
9. Laser Surgery 2/24/2009
10. That Friday (29 October 2000) 2/26/2009
11. Tonal Tomato Number Lost In Me Splashed Merger Oldus 55 3/3/2009
12. Weeding 3/4/2009
13. Mourning 3/4/2009
14. The Story Of A Relationship (A Suite Of 6 Short Poems) 3/12/2009
15. Blim 3/18/2009
16. Since My Death 4/12/2009
17. Still 12/15/2011
18. Inspiration Overflow 8/2/2012
19. Forest Eyes 8/2/2012
20. Wanderings And Wonderings 8/2/2012
21. Thunder And Lightning 8/2/2012
22. Eye Struggle 8/2/2012
23. Freely Bound 8/2/2012
24. Sad Song 8/2/2012
25. The Pull Of Ghosts 8/2/2012
26. Checkmate Prologue 8/2/2012
27. Enigma Illusion 8/2/2012
28. Sweet, Sweet Wine 1/6/2013
29. The Right Thing 1/6/2013
30. If 7/30/2013
31. When I Am Dead 7/30/2013
32. Ben 7/30/2013
33. Night In Shimmering Ardour 7/30/2013
34. Bless You Forever 7/30/2013
35. But... 7/30/2013
36. What The Dogs Say 7/30/2013
37. Proof Perfection 7/30/2013
38. Of Men And Mice 7/30/2013
39. Rhapsody In Gold 7/30/2013
40. The Dance 7/30/2013
Best Poem of Diana van den Berg

Wall Of Darkness

I stood and looked in the cool of the twilight -
the sun was peacefully sinking low,
her last rays glowing and lovingly encompassing
the world in a soft and rich, warm glow.

Suddenly a trembling, rumbling, grumbling
shook the world of that mighty plain.
and out of the east, with a powerful thundering,
the wild black horses of dark night came,

Tossing their heads as they galloped in number,
their tails outstretched in the whistling wind.
I stood transfixed as they surged towards me,
unable to move or turn away.

Larger and larger they grew ...

Read the full of Wall Of Darkness

Sunday Comfort

Like the slow-note embrace of evensong,
heavy-scented on the darkening air;
like the sky diffused with sun-paintings,
blessing my muddied fingers
and my horse’s
gardened grave;
like the sunrise strokes
on trunk edges
in honour of the dawn chorus;

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