On the picturesque inclines of Roidraai
at the entrance to Eden
the jewel of Herold’s bay
reaches for the clouds
with the hands of a child,
gathering whisps upon whisps
of the fluffy white hairs
to spin into divine yarns.
No cirrus flag adorns the castle,
no cumulous curtains decorate windows,
no stratus comforters grace the beds,
no nimbus lace beautifies tables,
for all the yarn is woven into nets
to catch angels as they fall.
Through pirate’s vengeful wrath
and tempest’s winds of selfishness,
through love’s fearful betrayals
and mortality’s petulant rage,
through hopeless rains of tears
and bitter winters of doubt,
the little hands keep working
always gathering, spinning, weaving
until the sun can not wait any longer
and shines through warmly once more.
Today a bluebird sings
a song of the new season
for springtime comes again
and strained nets are easily mended.
The sun joins in the song
as the waves keep time
and the butterflies and sparrows dance.
Evil comes often to Droomves,
as it does everywhere man lives,
but here at the entrance to Eden
the jewel of Herold’s bay provides
a soft landing and a cup of tears.
Author notes
Merry Christmas Myrataal.
Droomves is Afrikaans for "Castle of Dreams" and is her home on the slpoes of the Roidraai, at Herold's Bay Eden South Africa, if I got all that right.
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
-
Oh. This is a nice little poem that you have going on here. It was this whole little story about the sky and the sun and the angels. It was very pretty and perfect around christmas time. Lestways, I thought it went well with the holidays. I thought you did a good job of expressing yourself here.
-
wow - that was beautiful.
Like a dream. Its a poem I wish I could photograph!
-
This was written very well. I love the words that you have wrote for the beautiful myrataal. Thank you for sharing. In Love & Light... Blessed Be! ~~Iridessa MoonFlower~~
-
Thank you, Allan ...
Thank you for this gift to me. Well. What can I say? Now other souls live in the house we built as a family. I am not staying in Droomves, on the Rooidraai, anymore. And: the father of my children died of cancer. Yet: no hardship can change the happiness we had and will again have in Heaven.
Thank you for being a friend. Thank you for your Christmas Gifts. Merry Christmas, Allan, to you and your precious daughter and Lauren, too.
Love
Always Myra
-
-
Perhaps you no longer live there, but your memories are there. This piece is taken out of time. Was that a good recovery?
-
-
You have the ability to make every recovery ...
a good one. The more I read your poem, the more I love it!
-
-
-
oh and a cup of tears is a great ending, i really enjoyed the read take care
-
to catch angels as the fall wow i loved that
-
BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN WITH THE EVIL AND GOOD ENTWINED INTO ON POEM...
CHEERS
-
This is a very fine poem you've written here, and the images it paints are vivid. Thank you for sharing it.
-
A very fine write, indeed. You expressed your thoughts quite well. Thanks for sharing this one with us.
-
That was a lot to get right, smile, she should treasure this one, its a peach lol
-
'for all the yarn is woven into nets
to catch angels as they fall.' Very pretty. There were some really nice images in this one! The Afrikaans definitely gives it a solid sense of place!
Adding your comment:
1 - 13 of 13
