Painting Poem by Gert Strydom

Painting calmed you,
brought tranquillity to your soul
more that a cup of tea could do

and with every brush stroke
of the painter’s pencil
faces got form
and character and soul,
eyes got colour
and followed me anywhere
in that room.

Tuscan streets came to life
with little cafés,
people sitting at tables,
selling bread and arranging
lavender flowers
against the backdrop
of the sky, the sea
and villas on a hill.

Abstract paintings reminded me
of scenes under the sea,
or rural villages
with people in front
of a old TV-set,

black girls smiled charming,
carrying pots on their heads
or children piggyback
looking cute
in a comic character way
and with every painting
I saw your skills grow
and pictures stroked
to the finest detail.

I watch your measuring eye,
you confident hand,
colours being mixed
on a palette board
and part of your soul
became part of me
and we shared
long moments together.