Gert Strydom Poems

One morning I saw a man
who looked at me
with red eyes
and his beard,
...

under whose branches lions lie down
dreaming in the sun,
where baboons sometimes play,
where elephants rip off some bark
...

Protected by the mountains
and covered by bushes
the ruin of an old farmhouse stands,
where the shadow
...

The wind was howling
and shaking the big oak trees,
and the moon hanged like a sickle
gliding like a ship over the dark sky
...

Far deeper than the thundering waves,
at a unfathomable depth
where there is about no visibility
and night encompasses everything
...

If all we are, see or may deem to be
is free like drops of sand on the beach
and in each there is no constancy
in fancy for something more we reach,
...

My ex-mother in law
was an unusual person
that could wish others
into death
...

The true blessing of spring
when the lark, the nightingale and thrush sing
is like the most sincere friends that seldom meet
or maybe each other seldom in goodbye greet
...

There is something
in being bilingual
and when I grew up
we were forced
...

When the waves of the sea
became bigger and the wind
started to blow at storm strength,
the boat didn’t sail anymore
...