in my hands

it used to be

that music or words or the wail of the wind

would speak to me

to the part of me who loved rhyme

and loved to spin a web of words

a story a tale a love poem

would nudge my mind

and push and grow

unwinding until there was no option

but to write

today she said

“it is in your hands”

“stop giving your power away”

and I listened and I heard

and the voice of words

which lives in my head

shuddered and shook and spoke

I believed my silence was permanent

my outpourings ended but no

I still have words to share

my hands crooked now

fingers bent like trees warped by wind

skin wrinkled and marked with age

but mine still mine

in my hands under my hands

hold my hand and walk with me

learn these hands map their lines

these hands have fed me washed me

caressed the ones I love

they have lived my life

they will cherish and protect

and they will write another chapter

eryll oellermann

31.01,2024

my lost self

I lie wide eyed, dismayed

that sleep again evades my eager desire

to fall in to that deep dark place

my familiar friend

but sleep has turned her back on me

and leaves me helpless

exposed to time and memory

while bits of me float off

into the far wherever

my sturdy self, exposed

as ethereal

as a dandelion clock

waiting for the first breath

or breeze

to send a thousand parts of her

flying off, spinning reckless

into dandelion future

the leaving of my bits

spin no happy future

they are merely the destruction

of my dreams

how can I have lived this long

most times delightful life

so wrapped in the comfort

of my own ignorance

until the day

I knew

Copyright (c) 2022 by Eryll Oellermann

today is tuesday

 

today is tuesday

friday I turn seventy five

properly grown up?

not really, still a mixed up mess

of questions without answers

dreams without reality

sometimes content and oft bereft

happiness and tears

like hot and cold taps

too much of one sometimes

and yet again not enough

but pain brings words

so write my friend

write while your brain churns

with thoughts and emotions

which would fit better

in an anxt filled teen

tomorrow is another day

and the words may be once more absent

lost in the calmness

of age and acceptance

eryll oellermann

12^th september 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

when the wild one howls

 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

Copyright © 2022 by Eryll Oellermann

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 

 

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

Copyright © Eryll Oellermann 2020

 

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

the trouble with packing

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

Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

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

Copyright © 2019 by Eryll Oellermann

the wind and her servants

anjd the voices of the past

spoke to me

through the wind and her servants

sometimes a whisper

almost as silent

as a wordless wraith

at others a banshee screaming aloud

of the  pain and hopelessness

of lost futures

they spoke through the trees

arms outstretched

as the wind formed music from their thoughts

remember me

when you feel the breeze upon your skin

know me again when I take the air from your lungs

with the force of my passion

for i am all

and always have been

the past the present the future

Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

who ...

who are you

for me you are ...

sunlight and shade

the first song

of nature's awakening

the rush of winter wind

which steals my breath away

white sands, blue seas

dolphins surfing translucent waves

you bring me

the magic of our incredible world

the sound of your voice

familiar poetry

the love in your eyes 

my heart's desire

no beginning, no end

the gods of love

bring priceless offerings

unexpected joys

the unforgettable experience

of loving you

welcome home

my anam cara 

Copyright ©  Eryll Oellermann 2017

Coucou my darling – I miss you.

I miss holding your hand and the way you squeeze mine.

I miss standing in the kitchen holding you, touching your sweet lips with mine…

that frisson of excitement, the magical emotion of soul joining.

I miss your fabulous French cooking, our evening walks.

I miss your goodbye when you leave for work in the morning and I miss the delight I feel when you return home at the end of the day.

I miss Fifi and the sunshine, shutters that actually close and tomato salad.

I love that I have learned the secret of your salad dressing is French mustard.

I love that I have learned a few French words and the way you teach me the correct pronunciation.

I love windows that open inwards – what a marvelous idea!

So many new experiences, new places, new tastes …

Brought to me by one fabulous French women.

Thank you Marie-Ange for being you.

I love the way you are, who you are and most of all I love the way you make me feel.

Eryll

25th September 2017

My woman, my wife

my breath, my life

you came in the Summer

a stranger unknown

so very French

so young

too young for me

and yet

we played and laughed

we travelled and ate

we shared music and memories

until time no longer mattered

and we crossed the line

into the realm of love forbidden

I have loved you

through the browning gold

of Autumn

and through the long dark

of leafless Winter

I learned to love you

in absence, through distance

soon the first green of Spring

will burst the dormant buds

and I will once more

hold you in my arms

beloved woman

owner of my heart

Copyright © 2018 by Eryll Oellermann

no sleep comes to me

for my words have brought her pain

and she

strong as steel

yet fragile as a baby bird

fallen too soon from the nest

she turns from me

eryll oellermann  3rd January 2019

I will find you in the darkest night 

your soul calls to mine

your heart sings to me

of all our tomorrows

from the first time our eyes met

i have wanted nothing but your love

your hands whispering  to me

every touch a simple tale

of triumph

of a love which never dies

eryll oellermann 

3rd february 2019

the waiting

I have waited all my life

to hear the whisper of your love

and now

as leafless trees stand sombre black

against the winter sky

I feel the sounds of spring

a universal leap to life

for now, the waiting over

I hear your love proclaimed

my unbelieving ended

I am whole

for you are she

the one I waited for, unknowing

that I waited

eryll oellermann 6^th February 2019

who are you

who are you french woman

a mystery for me to solve

a love letter from the universe

a lesson waiting to be learned

the source of my torment and delight

the seducer of my body

the occupier of my mind 

the owner of my heart

you are all these things and more

you are my twin soul

my other half

the end of my searching

the beginning of our love song

a thought shared

a hand holding tight

you are all i have ever longed for

there abides inside me now

a lonely place, a missing

which only you can fill

i had no idea this space existed

until i held you in my arms

and then i understood

that i had wanted you, waited for you

all the years before we met

i grow to know you a little my love

each day you fill my heart more

i learn to understand the ways of you

sometimes too slowly

at times too fast

my heart fills and expands

with the treasure of our love

the magical possibilities of us

you are my passion, my love

my thoughts, my desire

i am yours in ways

you may never understand

feel free and feel safe

you no longer need to walk alone

who am I… with your consent

I am your life's companion

eryll oellermann 20^th February 2019

before time

I did not choose to love you

no more than I chose to be born

and of course once we are born

we do not choose to die

there is no matter of choice

only a certain inevitability

we are who we are, where we are

on the whole life happens to us

if we are wise

we learn to swim with the current

so no, I did not choose to love you

your occupation of my heart and mind

my delight in your body

my overwhelming need to be in your company

these are my destiny

written in the stars before time

eryll oellermann

30^th November 2017

a dreamer

no one shall have too much happiness…

if your heart catches fire

your caress becomes a prayer

her softness yields

and you swirl together

coffee and cream

a gentle perfection which leads the mind

to imagine forever

know fear

for we are not the same

she the very epitome of self sufficiency

and I

who am i

a dreamer of impossibilities

eryll oellermann december 2017