Rooi papawers wat waai in die wind

ek kan velde met gras sien

en rooi papawers

wat waai in die wind

Maar eintlik verlang ek na ons kinders.

Volwasse en ontwikkeld en mooi.

Dus gaan ek 'n paar foto's van hulle hier plasens laat neem. Dan voel dit vir my of ek ook op socials is, ek is, maar ek spring rond tussen vriende daar.

Kennisse of net lees en kyk en luister – bietjie hier, bietjie daar – en laat ek hulle ook weer gaan.

Ek is soos die wilderige katte in die tuin. Springend. Soos eekhorings.

We jump like squirrels.

Our kids grown up: 2017 to 2025 (180 photos)

moerse baie bloekombome hier mama

but no matter how far or how wide we will roam

we'll still call australia

home

my borrelende bron van babbelende woorde

my woud so dig met net skynsels lig

ek besit ‘n mosbegroeide waterval

waar klanke na my toe afval

the waterfall sings

as she becomes a loch

The piano murmurs

The elevator hummed

the cool breezes that sometimes play

through blowing grass

forever beloved

I’ve also known for a long time now

that I was lucky

I could see our children grow up

the humid wind of Sydney

is strumming strumming

while children would continue to play 

in a warm brown lagoon

with their feet treading water

in the silty soft summer sand

of Glenmore Strand

Queensland smelled of oceans

just now, when I closed my eyes for a while

I saw fireflies circling above wet moss

behind thin cascades of a waterfall

where we walked for days

singing about mountains

and singing about valleys

flowers flourish in Texas

always in Ōṃ and always part of the universe

when our children were playing at break time

during High School, at Primary School

and also at Preschool’s Kindergarten's classes

we grow in the past the future

we grow in the now

laurel trees whisper in the balmy wind

so thank you —  everyone everywhere 

from Bondi Bay to Eden Borough to Nagano Snow

thank you my own Stofputs of Droëgrond 

in the land of ǀXam

you increase my joys of life 

with your wonderful thingetjies doingsdiscoverings

your coming goings 

and lovely laughters

you'll take the high road

and i'll take the low road

but we'll meet again

at Loch Lomond

and I see my pappa again

where the tall grass sings

when the little nest sways

in the vlei song's ways

and I play my flute

on the reed of my pa

with the Bokmakierie's call

and the sweet waterfall

My dad and the flea man

he thinks the Dutch people are a nice lot

he tells how, in old Amsterdam

way back in 1959

he visited a flea market

where he saw de vlooienman

harnessing fleas in front of a tiny carriage

then the fleas start jumping

and the carriage shoots merrily through the air

hence:

a flea market

A London Wish

London dear London

and the barge

under Tower Bridge

tired of London, I can never be

when I listen to water music

on a Thames boat to Greenwich

Rocking boat rocking chair

swing bench, tree swing, swing chair 

ah whe

probably also just the age

with all of us over 60: there is

swing, swing, rock, rock,

rocking chair

teddybear

compassion for each other 

ah whe

blow on blow on

said the wise woman to her son

remb'r ya history my son my son

and take it wid ya wereva you gone

an blow on blow on my son my son

remember yo motha she old as da trees

remb'r yo sista she only sixteen

t'ink o' da rapper black as da night

strong man from Africa with all its might

an blow on blow on my son my son

blow on blow on an seiza da day

an sing blow on blow on blow on

chow fo now i'l grabba da wind

chow fo now i'l sing to da sea

chow fo now i'l tink o' yea

and i will too blow on blow on

blow on blow on blow on

sings da wind from da sea

unner milkwood

in Knysna

an unner

da giant

yellowwood

tree

wake up with a sun stream 

through your open window

a radiance and the transparency

of a clear A major chord

walk out of the door into the sun

and live in light

Norwegian forest cats

one dozen, please

fresh lemons and mint, please

one dozen, on ice

when life gives you lemons

bring more lemons

your own lemons

yes

I agree

they never

give enough

lemons

and mint

amazed by the beauty

of the shells in my hand

bleached and fragile

white-pink light blue

sweet honey peach

and on it in fine print

the days keep on existing

on this sea urchin beach

these ocean shells are

in my hand

Skylark

I walked that day

in a field around Ayr

then slept for a while

and looked up high

at the clear wonderful blue

of the grassland sky

I heard your song

swirling up and up

joyfully ascending

lark of the sky

there I dreamed the day away

and listened awhile

to the lark ascending

under the wide blue sky

where I lay and dreamed

my day away

there where I thought of my daily joys

in the wild grassland heather

filled with light filled with air

on that beautiful day

in May

Silence and love

lie in the tension

between the unspoken

and the written sentences

it is in our pursuit

of peace in toughness

in a friendly existence

it is in our knowledge

to preserve and protect

that which is good

it is in consciousness

in desire

in harmony

silence and love lie

precious and wondrous

in acceptance

.

Liefde van mamma An — full of poetries ... 

and posies.

......