Gert Strydom Poems

At a time your loveliness will be gone,
time will devour
the very way that we exist and are,
even our labour
...

I

“Hush citizens, it’s the old general, ”
some young boys say
...

The day had only begun
when the coach
of governor Van der Stel drives in

and he is searching for copper
...

The neighbour sits on the porch of his house
puffing away at a pipe
on Rembrandt van Rijn tobacco
and there’s a small cloud around him
...

Daily I see bearded men with turbans
around their heads
dressed in white cloaks, women carrying
their prayer beads
...

In every face that I behold,
I see a certain chill, a certain cold
and in the distance white mine heaps glimmer
light flash over tall buildings, glass windows shimmer
...

Daily I see bearded men with turbans
around their heads
dressed in white cloaks, women carrying
their prayer beads
...

with its clear blue sky
where the sun shines like an eye
that is full of glory

I want to pray to You
...

we both stand in amazement
while you are noting the small treasures
of everything that we find;
there are insects jumping here and there
...

we were both busy in the garden,
which seemed like a kind of Eden
and there was something in your cheerful gaze

a kind of wonder as if by Godly graze
...