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Monday, 6 November 2023

never say

i suppose I should have known

she could never say “i love you”

it was as if the words welled up in her throat

and choked her

i have no doubt that she did love me

but speaking the words

out loud

were, for her

most times impossible

my heart ached in the silence of her declarations

in time I asked

why?

in her world I love you was saved

and sacred

for special occassions only

I learned to hold my words close inside me

seldom allowing them to escape

except occassionally

eryll oellermann

15^th september 2023

Tuesday, 20 September 2022

when the wild one howls

how free are the wild ones

who roam forest and far field

mountain and valley

who follow the river

together, paired, eternal

no thought of tomorrow

of the death and living ahead

they hunt to eat

when hungry bellies shout insistent

of the need of the body

they kill to provide and protect

without malice of the mind and spirit

they run through wilderness of grass

spring green at summers start

and tramp the high trails

amidst the cold of winter’s long shadow

the present is their secret

existence in the now

their devotion beyond doubt

their love laid bare for all to know

together they shelter from the downpour

and find cool in the shade of mighty boughs

lying together as one

the young conceived in love are born

they grow strong and playful

churlish in the inbetween ages

and then full adult they depart

to make a world their own

the wild ones smile

and cherish still but from afar

their work is done, a little sadness

but soon,a glimpse, a spark of freedom

for they shall run and play again

together in their silver days

they learn to rest in the comfort

of themselves

in ways unknown in the restlessness of youth

until the autumn draws near

the leaves dry brown and gold

discarded by the forest trees

in preparation for the long cold

then bones grown old and stiff

and a heart worn from the joy of living

grows tired and stops

and only one remains, one wild one

howling for the moon

20/09/2022

Thursday, 21 October 2021

the maker of jams

what is love and how and why
it is a question crying for an answer
an answer waiting
always waiting for the one
to ask the question
love is warmth and security
and yet also
pain and the icy cut of future disaster
the fear which runs in the blood
the torment of imagined future loss
and yet we seek
and long for the one
who will take our breath away
the one who will make us whole
and therefore vulnerable
in our need

I am hers
I doubt that she imagined me
in her dreams of the future
perhaps not quite the one she would have chosen
we do not choose
we tumble heart first into the chasm
some reckless hellbound and determined
following the ancient instinct
knowing
that love is worth the pain price
we will someday be asked to pay
while others tread more softly
advance more slowly
wary of opening their heart
to the possibilities and futures unknown
and yet love persists

and so I am hers
without question without doubt
she is not who I would have expected
to take my heart and make me hers
but the fates decreed
and so it is
in some ways we are the same
and yet at times
as different as night from day
for I exist in a world of impulse and impatience
enchanted with the written word
and the intricacies the intimacy of romance
a dreamer howling wolf like at the moon
for a togetherness seldom possible

and she is she mine
our future set and safe
my beloved girl so careful with her heart
did she too tumble into the chasm of love
does she find her joy in our togetherness
her heart does it ache
in our times of absense
for she is far more sensible than I
does she consider reality more often
than she may weave dreams
my maker of art through the camera lense
who will wait with patience for perfection
my baker of tarts and maker of jams
my beloved french woman

my last love

Copyright © Eryll Oellermann August 2021

Tuesday, 6 October 2020

the tree

I sat beneath this tree today

and leaned my back against her rough strength

I spoke to her of dreams I once had

which have vanished in the haze of time

of dreams I might still have if time allows

I spoke of life so precious so joy filled

of agony and pain of the body and the spirit

which I have learned to survive

I spoke of lost love and eternal love

I shared the truth of motherhood

the gift of love that only your children bring

I spoke to her of how I have lived my life

of death and loss and soulmates never forgotten

and as I spoke I remembered

the goodness of the souls who have shared my time

those who have walked with me and held my hand

offered strength when I am weak

laughed with me about things funny and tragic

fed me at their table and loved me

for who I am and not whom I might have been

a power arose in me of love and gratitude

like an overflowing spring

I thanked this tree for waiting there for me

to lend me the wisdom of being still

and the realisation that all things have their time

so often I have forgotten to appreciate

the sweet scent of an autumn breath

the delight of light shimmering through leaves

and at times neglected to be thankful

for the abundance of beauty our natural world offers

for clear streams and muddy puddles

for the abundance of life

and the mystery of death

my arms remembered

my heart knew how to love you

before I ever met you

I waited, never knowing

who I waited for

and then, one day

you stepped into my life

too young, too beautiful, too french

my heart recognized you

my arms remembered

that they longed to hold you

your smile was the light

which would shatter the dark of alone

I reached for you

and you took my hand

forever will not be time enough

for me to love you as I would wish

beloved french woman

light of my life

eryll oellermann

21^st september 2020

Friday, 27 September 2019

so here I am again
a strange town
a different place a new home
pack and unpack is what I do
you might almost say
i have a degree in moving
a masters in mulling over memories
brought back to mind
in the sorting of the past
which to let go
which to hold close
wrap it up
held safe in tissue and bubble wrap
boxed transported
then unwrapped again
each new place is different
each memory is the same
others settle and grow roots
my life is motion
new faces new experiences
to incorporate
in all the places of yesterday
do I wish a life more stable
more the same
do I long for friends so far away
for family and familiar faces
I always have I always will
but I am only me
because the road of life
has always called my name

Tuesday, 30 July 2019

we will wait in wild places

what do I want in life

I have lived so long

and walked so many miles

along the road of living

and I believed

I needed no more

I had it all

enough

a life well lived

and then you my love

you found me and loved me

my heart grew young once more

and I knew love

passion and desire

for you brought with you

sunshine and laughter

unfamiliar music and the taste of france

you carry with you a magic

which beguiles me

to me you are an enchantment

an enigma

I would wish to spend my life

with you

we will wander together

through this world

so beautiful

we will walk wooded paths

through sunlight and shadow

hear the call of the wild things

who hide beyond vision

feel the sand

rough beneath our shoeless feet

we will hear the waves greet the shore

watch the sea foam swirl and separate

around our bare legs

we will stand in awe

and whisper back to the mountains

which call us to them

in the warmth of a summer night

we will dance

alone beneath the moon

and rejoice in the majestic silence

of the dark sky

starlit

together

we will wait in wild places

and watch

hand in hand

30^th July 2019