Tuesday, 4 September 2018

doing it the french way

I should have known we could not last
they say with age comes wisdom
but in my case it just ain’t so
I’ve always bucked the system

she could not say “i love you”
but said “you know I do”
and I,the great romantic learned
to keep my silence too

at night, she said, “you make noise”
in english that means snoring
“i must to work, I need my sleep”
to sleep alone is boring!

she could not use the sofa bed
she said it hurt her chest
and so I slept there all alone
I really tried my best

she took me to her mother’s house
introduced me as a friend
and that is how the matter stayed
until the very end

our relationship was private
she had no need to share
the fact that we were lovers
involved in an affair


“it is nobody’s business”
“no need for them to know”
but in my heart there was an ache
which never ceased to grow

I didn’t want to lose her
but her ways were far from mine
she said I spoke too loudly
I thought I sounded fine

“you eat too fast, sit up straight”
“you must not point your finger”
too much to change, too much to learn
should I go or should I linger?

oh I am far from perfect
but I’m really not that bad
these mentioned imperfections
really made me sad

she always was “too busy”
too many things to do
no time to sit and contemplate
no time for me and you

I wrote this in the small wee hours
of the night of two september
that was the night we ceased to be
I wanted to remember

it was so good when it was good
those memories burn my brain
but now I own an aching heart
her absense is my pain

but time will pass and I will heal
my need for her will fade
until I am myself once more
the debt of love slow paid





for love’s a gift which has a price
and that price has to be
the pain of loss when love departs
and I am once more free



Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

Saturday, 25 August 2018

sometimes naked

life is full of surprises
you came and I fell in love
knowing better
but helpless, immersed in the magic
of unexpected passion
and now
we come and go
sometimes naked
hot and tangled
wide and wild eyed
yet more often apart
separated by land miles
and oceans
screen gazing
soft and misty eyed
distance on occasion lends disenchantment
pride and hurt feed on the space
between us
created by physical absence
I find myself alone
lost without the one who is my light
my soul mate my anam cara

we will always return
as the sea to the shore
drawn to each other
embracing our connection
our past our present our future
etched in the sands of time


Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann



Monday, 26 February 2018

why one

one snow flake fell
drifting softly
past the window
which needed cleaning
why one
the answer to so much in life
is why
why does the grey feel drawn to me
a silent stalker
eating away at the edges of me
until I question who
and what I am
like sun damage
invisible at first and then
appearing in rough and darkened patches
on my soul



Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

Monday, 19 February 2018

today is monday

today we are shrouded in cloud
or mist, that whipe vaporous stuff
that obscures ones sight
limiting distance and blurring definition
peaceful it is, the world when covered
with mother nature’s soft blankie
I hear the rooks call out
before they loom into sight
to settle in the branches
of the old unleafed oak tree
a good day to wander
an old forgotten grave yard
paying homage to the past
while descended cloud moisturises
this worn and wrinkled african face



Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

Monday, 14 December 2015

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

Friday, 29 May 2015

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