Poem: The Crown of a Yurt

Crow On The Wire

Looking out the crown
of a yurt,
I can see the hawk
circling above
and hear the energy
of the howling wolf.

I can see my murky dreams
in the distance become clear.
I can feel the presence of the spirit
hover beside me.

As I look out the crown of a yurt,
I know I’m a part of all things
that are naturally made.
I know I’m not alone,
no matter where I go
or who I’ve been.

I can feel the soothing drumbeat
surround me,
the blueness of the Navajo sky,
the whispering winds of my ancestors
that gently guide me.

Looking out the crown of a yurt,
I can feel my life change and flow.
I can see my body gracefully age
with wrinkled dark skin
and the beauty of ancient wisdom.


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#Poetryreadathon – Poetry, poetry everywhere Part 1

Come and join the fun in a POETRYREADATHON

Robbie's inspiration

Granddad poem

I have recently launched a book of poetry, together with fellow South African, Kim Blades. In celebration of this achievement which I have been working on for the past five years, I have decided to host a Poetry Readathon on my blog starting on 1 December 2018 and ending on 15 January 2019.

Part 1 of the Poetry Readathon will comprise of reading and reviewing poetry books. I have selected eight books below for you to choose from if you would like to participate.  You can link to my post and I will share your review on my blog and to my Facebook poetry sharing page as well as other social media.

Part 2 of the Poetry Readathon will comprise posts introducing you to some of the poetry bloggers who don’t have books but who write wonderful poetry and share it on their blogs. If you are a poetry blogger and…

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Rusted Hearts


Despite the barriers, despite the armored shells around us,
feelings sneak in and spill out, contagious and relentless.
Tears dry, hearts change and steel turns to rust.
I stand in front of you guarded and armed nevertheless.

Your curious eyes, they follow me as I undress.
I’d stay longer if your heart satisfied my tastebuds
but your touch is only meaningful in your absence.
Whatever we had lays on the floor between us
next to our clothes and the thoughts we call a mess

“Kiss me.” You kiss me.
You lay me down and hold me.
“I miss this.”
I kiss you back… “but I don’t.”
“Why are we here?”

Because you hold me when I need to be held
and touch me how I like to be touched
Your fingers scream with love
Your lips are drowning in lust
And your eyes are always lost

“I love you” No…

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