Gert Strydom Poems

What joy I see in faces,
but it’s not in my heart
and I have not a part
of the December summer fun.
...

The fog is so low
that it looks as if,
it’s coming from the ground.
...

At Camps bay the wind is blowing
and the waves leap and thrust
against the jetty,
where my eyes
...

It was somewhere in July
that I first met you.
and that winters day,
felt like summer to me.
...

How soft and firm and hot and wet
your lips are at times
and how tender and unstoppable,
is the passion
...

The starry three sisters
are rising overhead
and the hot day
is dead.
...

I went to a waterfall
in the drakensberg mountains
on a sunny day
and there was something,
...

For most things in life
there’s a cure.

People look at their bodies
...

Next to me a pig sow snorts
and the stench of pig manure
hangs heavy in the air
and the pigs are eating pods,
...

Last night I saw the full moon
hang yellow-gold through the window,
above your shoulder over the bed.
...