the always unknown

the grey the grey

sky grey mind grey

why fight

the creeping mist

the underneath of anger

sink into the place

the place where no questions ask

of yes and no

or even maybe

fall into the cloud

of no answers required

heavy heavy heavy

bound to the unquiet of my mind

lose myself there

free of responsibility

cast away

the anchor of decisions

float free within the turgid waters flow

until another time another place

exist

not live

waiting for what for who

the new tomorrow …

the always unknown

Copyright © 2015 by Eryll Oellermann

The sleeper

sleep dances

elusive in the moonlight

just beyond my reach

while a hundred small aches

remind me of the passing years

frustration drives me from my bed

padding barefoot

through the moonlit house

in search of anything

to break the turning tossing pattern

of my nights

the perfect sleeper

sleeps no more

Copyright © 2015 by Eryll Oellermann

Copyright © 2014 by Eryll Oellermann

rails

“rails” she said, “write of rails”

hand rails, towel rails, stair rails

railway rails

tracks coming to and from

my first love

well, not the first

but teenage love, heart bursting kisses

strong arms to experience

male hands teaching touch

train cars swaying

twin rails merge and disappear

in the distance

lost in a mirage of heat

from bloemfontein to capetown

clickety clack clickety clack

hot hot days

riding on the rails

coal driven steam powered

open windows and bread and butter

soot decorated

the endless karoo, desert flat

in the empty land of dry

trees line the long rail

peach pits carelessly tossed

from carriage windows

taken root and grown against the odds

blue, blue eyes and flashing smile

charm without effort

young love's come true dream

a forever fairytale

grown dusty in time

Copyright © 2014 by Eryll Oellermann

No more than a dream

No more than a dream

Is the darkness of night

caused by absence of light

is the world turning reason

for changes of season

does the rising sun mean

that the dark hours have been

devoured and rejected

and daylight respected

do we dance on our toes

singing praises in prose

will we live till we die

will this day laugh or cry

do these words carry thought

or more casually wrought

no secrets lie hidden

scant sweet love is bidden

we grow old and falter

youth no more our alter

and yet we still follow

thoughts vacant and hollow

the touch of a hand

draw a heart in the sand

as long as we breathe

we continue to weave

sad tales of failure the search for our soul

childhood remembering the death of a mole

barefoot and heat waves tumultuous storms

the gushing down water the great white ant swarms

the roar of the free way the sound of the sea

the buzz of mosquitoes a'feasting on me

my head on your shoulder for comfort and care

no reason was needed for me to rest there

a hot day a cold drink a run through the rain

a cricket sings solo there's the rain bird again

storm lilies will blossom the hot earth will steam

the land of my birth is no more than a dream

Copyright © 2015 by Eryll Oellermann

curse the summer

weeds grow so much faster

would I pump and poison

would I slash and mow

by choice

do bowling green lawns

and pristine borders

mean more to me

than life

were I to rebel

disregard the social mores

desist and watch

a meadow grow in natural chaos

where once the discipline

of cut and rake and dig

held sway

would I congratulate myself

or curse the summer

of unstoppable growth

Copyright © 2015 by Eryll Oellermann