Gert Strydom

Veteran Poet - 1,720 Points (03 April 1964 / Johannesburg, South Africa)

Silver - Poem by Gert Strydom

There are clouds that hang
silver-grey in the air,
before the winter sun
gives its first rays
of a drawling day.

Silver-grey the Monday starts
and while the day’s hours
pass much to slowly,
I am summoned to the old chief
with his silver-grey hair.

One of the women clerks
who wants to be boss,
wants to push a silver knife
into a colleges back.

I leave them alone to count their silver pounds
and wash my hands in the bathroom,
with a silver ray of water that squirts out of the tap.


Comments about Silver by Gert Strydom

  • Veteran Poet - 1,220 Points Marieta Maglas (6/10/2009 7:29:00 AM)

    all the stanzas operate to invoke the theme, tone.. nice write..lovely to read.10++ (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 10, 2009



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