Gert Strydom

(03 April 1964 / Johannesburg, South Africa)

There Are White Flowers In Her Hair


There are white flowers in her hair,
blue-white stars when she laughs
in her eyes shining like rainbows,
with a own innocent beauty

with the coming of spring in the air
between the blooming flowers,
in rainbows shining like her eyes,
she finds where the prettiest flowers grow,

she is bounded to loveliness,
she notices roses that are dark like blood
in her eyes shining like rainbows,
but in her cheeks there is a gloss.

Delighted she stands at corn fields
clouds dark and white,
in rainbows shining like her eyes
there is somewhere a pot of gold.

Submitted: Thursday, December 29, 2011
Edited: Thursday, December 29, 2011

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (There Are White Flowers In Her Hair by Gert Strydom )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. What my heart says, Gregory Kelley
  2. More, douglas scotney
  3. To the Apple Green, Peach Blossomed Skie.., mary douglas
  4. Qoute # 5, Is It Poetry
  5. The Impolite Proprietress, Terence G. Craddock
  6. Love, Melissa K Vigna
  7. It's Over, Melissa K Vigna
  8. The Rider, Melissa K Vigna
  9. Party, Melissa K Vigna
  10. Wonderland, Melissa K Vigna

Poem of the Day

poet Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]