Sitting on a sand dune a million miles away.
Watching my grandsons sand boarding the dunes (finally)
Running the soft sand through my fingers.
My thoughts turned to you
Knowing this is where your heart still lies
even after all this time
How I wished to share with you
a picture of this spectacular view
Everywhere we went I could not help
thinking you would have loved it.
There was no message from you in my post box this year.
Not even enjoy the holiday
I miss you just a little bit
Friday, February 20, 2015
Friday, June 7, 2013
"Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel "not good enough"?
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless, and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
In the arms of an Angel, far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here..."
For the break that will make it ok
There's always some reason to feel "not good enough"?
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins
They may be empty and weightless, and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time
It's easier to believe
In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
In the arms of an Angel, far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here..."
Monday, April 22, 2013
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
A Mother's Pain ... in Honour of Sebastion ... Tiny Angel
Sweet Child SEBASTIAN
God made a sweet child
a child who never grew old
He made a smile of sunshine
He molded a heart of pure gold.
He made that child as close to an angel
as anyone ever could be
God made a Sweet Child
and He gave that dear child to me
Then God saw His wonderful creation
... growing very tired and weak
so He wrapped the child in His loving arms
and said, "You my child I keep"
But now my Sweet Child is an angel
Free from hurt and pain
I'll love you forever, until we meet again
So many times I have missed you
So many times I have cried
If all my love could have saved you
Sweet Child you never would have died.
God made a sweet child
a child who never grew old
He made a smile of sunshine
He molded a heart of pure gold.
He made that child as close to an angel
as anyone ever could be
God made a Sweet Child
and He gave that dear child to me
Then God saw His wonderful creation
... growing very tired and weak
so He wrapped the child in His loving arms
and said, "You my child I keep"
But now my Sweet Child is an angel
Free from hurt and pain
I'll love you forever, until we meet again
So many times I have missed you
So many times I have cried
If all my love could have saved you
Sweet Child you never would have died.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Nou so lekker gelag ...
Arm, Armer, Moer-arm
Ons was moer-arm.Agt kinders. Daai tyd was ek in Std 2 en moes ons van daai glas bottelkies gom met die rooi proppie en rooi kwassie hê vir skool.My ma het amper flou geval toe ek haar vra vir gom.“Waar dink hulle moet ons die geld vandaan kry?”Maar natuurlik – Boere maak ‘n plan.En ma was nie stupid nie.Sy kon tot gom maak.Ruk daar flour uit,gooi suiker by en kook die spul op die stoof.Ek staan eenkant,baie impressed met my slim ma.Laat dit toe effens afkoel en sit dit in ‘n ou NCR Yeast blikkie wat so bietjie verblyk was.Ek was die enigste kind met ‘n Yeast Blikkie op my tafel.Al die ander kinders het die regte bottelkies gom gehad.Ek het nie baie omgegee nie,want my gom was baie beter as hulle sin en het geplak soos superglue nie kan plak nie!So drie weke later,te...rwyl die biesies buite bewe van die hitte,sit ons klas in doodse stilte,besig met eksamen.Fokkit mense,een moerse ontploffing ruk die hele skool tot aandag.Daar trek my donnerse blikkie se deksel en hy agterna tot teenaan die sielieng.Dis net gom wat neerkom op ons soos ‘n donnerstorm!All es is wit.En dit stink ongelooflik – suurhol se moses!Ek’t nog nooit iets in my hele lewe geruik wat so gestink het nie.Die Juffrou se brille is vol gom.Haar hare spierwit.Dit drup van haar af asof sy in ‘n shower staan.Tot n haar kliewitch by haar tieties.Ek kon nie glo dat sy soos ‘n beeld lyk nie.Oral waar ek kyk in die klas is almal faaktap van die gom.Almal is wit en gil van die skrik.Ons boeke is faaktap.Ons klere is faaktap.Ons stink faaktap.Juffrou wip toe haar gat en jaag ons almal uit en sê ons kan maar huis toe gaan.Van die kinders wat bus gery het se gom het goed droog geword van al die gewag.Ek was woedend toe ek by die huis kom.My ma het gedink dis ‘n moerse grap en het haar dinges amper geskeur van die lag toe sy my sien EN ruik …Die klaskamer moes uitgeverf word om van die suurholreuk ontslae te raak,maar ons kon dit nog vir weke dwarsdeur daai PVA ruik.Ek was glad nie gewild nie.Niemand wou eers meer met my speel nie …
Dis nou wat gebeur as jy Moer-arm is!
Ons was moer-arm.Agt kinders. Daai tyd was ek in Std 2 en moes ons van daai glas bottelkies gom met die rooi proppie en rooi kwassie hê vir skool.My ma het amper flou geval toe ek haar vra vir gom.“Waar dink hulle moet ons die geld vandaan kry?”Maar natuurlik – Boere maak ‘n plan.En ma was nie stupid nie.Sy kon tot gom maak.Ruk daar flour uit,gooi suiker by en kook die spul op die stoof.Ek staan eenkant,baie impressed met my slim ma.Laat dit toe effens afkoel en sit dit in ‘n ou NCR Yeast blikkie wat so bietjie verblyk was.Ek was die enigste kind met ‘n Yeast Blikkie op my tafel.Al die ander kinders het die regte bottelkies gom gehad.Ek het nie baie omgegee nie,want my gom was baie beter as hulle sin en het geplak soos superglue nie kan plak nie!So drie weke later,te...rwyl die biesies buite bewe van die hitte,sit ons klas in doodse stilte,besig met eksamen.Fokkit mense,een moerse ontploffing ruk die hele skool tot aandag.Daar trek my donnerse blikkie se deksel en hy agterna tot teenaan die sielieng.Dis net gom wat neerkom op ons soos ‘n donnerstorm!All es is wit.En dit stink ongelooflik – suurhol se moses!Ek’t nog nooit iets in my hele lewe geruik wat so gestink het nie.Die Juffrou se brille is vol gom.Haar hare spierwit.Dit drup van haar af asof sy in ‘n shower staan.Tot n haar kliewitch by haar tieties.Ek kon nie glo dat sy soos ‘n beeld lyk nie.Oral waar ek kyk in die klas is almal faaktap van die gom.Almal is wit en gil van die skrik.Ons boeke is faaktap.Ons klere is faaktap.Ons stink faaktap.Juffrou wip toe haar gat en jaag ons almal uit en sê ons kan maar huis toe gaan.Van die kinders wat bus gery het se gom het goed droog geword van al die gewag.Ek was woedend toe ek by die huis kom.My ma het gedink dis ‘n moerse grap en het haar dinges amper geskeur van die lag toe sy my sien EN ruik …Die klaskamer moes uitgeverf word om van die suurholreuk ontslae te raak,maar ons kon dit nog vir weke dwarsdeur daai PVA ruik.Ek was glad nie gewild nie.Niemand wou eers meer met my speel nie …
Dis nou wat gebeur as jy Moer-arm is!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
╰ღ╮❤╭ღ╯
A woman is the calm of a hurricane's eye
where a man finds tranquility
as the storm passes by
... A woman is the softness inside the shell
when the shell is bombarded
by man's creation of hell
A woman is the pillar of a temple foundation
where a man comes and goes
with renewed inspirations
A woman is the cloud that carries the rain
giving life to man's soul
parched from anxieties and pain
A woman is the bank of the river flows
helping man's direction
by being the woman she knows
A woman is the sound of a Lark's song in the morning
when mist covers life
and man feels forlorn
A woman is the emotions
shared with a man
the climax of giving
by the touch of a hand
A woman is the flesh that holds the seed
the miracle of birth
fullfilling human need
A woman is the mother of a new generation
a man is the direction
of that aspirationSee more
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Tears fall like Diamonds ...
Tears fall like diamonds
a tear rolls down my cheek
after reading your letters
was it just yesterday
cupid shot his arrow
you made me smile
you made life worth while
but now you're gone
you said you don't care
but it hurts still
how do I switch off that button
when I still care
~~~ Rina de Lange
Sunday, January 6, 2013
2013 gaan 'n Grand Jaar wees ...
Ek dink die son het alby van ons twee aangetas met die plaas werkery die vakansie, mense sig maar dit was warm. George het dak opgesit oor die slaap kamer en klein stoepie agter. Ons bou mos so stuk stuk aan Rose cottage. twee weke se harde werk en ons was reg om vir 'n week te kom rus by die huis. ... gaan loer na al die werk wat ons verrig het hier en nou is ons al amper weer op pad om nog te gaan werk. Soos hul se niemand gaan dit vir jou doen nie behalwe julself. ag en dan is dit sommer reg die eerste keer.
Voorspoedige Nuwe Jaar vir Almal xxx
Voorspoedige Nuwe Jaar vir Almal xxx
Sunday, November 25, 2012
1 plus 1 equals 3
Heard those words before, Mom you're going to be a Grandma, special words. So see 1 + 1 = 3, nothing wrong with my maths. Exciting time for the new family, expecting Mom and Dad and older stepbrother Luke. Mom's been having a good pregnancy so far, bub being her first baby, went for an ultrasound on friday. While baby was on her tummy and was not helping to prove she could just be a little boy. So for the meantime we believe it could be a girl.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Solovlug....
dis verby.
~~~
van die begin, en eerste soen,
tot elke skyfie lemoen,
was daar gedink, en geglo,
...die liefde reën van bo.
~~~
die strandloop, en rooiaas soek,
en duin op, en koes,
het sandkorrels seker gepraat,
maar is daar min verstaan.
~~~
haarslierte windverwaai in mis.
versier haar ovaalgesig.
asemhaling-kringe dwarrel.
en help voete vorentoe skarrel.
~~~
elke roosblaar getuig van glorie.
blaaie geplak in ‘n storie,
geelgoud-boek leef nie meer,
lê op sy sy omgekeer.
~~~
Lettie MurraySOLOVLUG
25 August .
[aletta murray, 24aug2012]
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Poppy Day ...
Why Wear A Poppy
"Please wear a poppy", the lady said
And held one forth, but I shook my head.
Then I stopped and watched as she offered them there,
And her face was old and lined with care;
But beneath the scars the years had made
There remained a smile that refused to fade.
A boy came whistling down the street
Bouncing along on care-free feet
His smile was full of joy and fun,
"Lady", said he, "May I have one?"
When she's pinned it on he turned to say,
"Why do we wear a poppy today?"
The lady smiled in her wistful way
And answered, "This is Remembrance Day,
And the poppy there is the symbol for
The gallant men and women who died in war,
And because they did, you and I are free -
That's why we wear a poppy, you see".
"I had a boy about your size,
With golden hair and big blue eyes,
He loved to play and jump and shout,
Free as a bird he would race about.
As the years went by he learned and grew
And became a man - as you will, too."
"He was fine and strong, with a boyish smile,
But he'd seemed with us such a little while
When war broke out and he went away.
I still remember his face that day
When he smiled at me and said "Good-bye,
I'll soon be back, Mum, so please don't cry".
"But the war went on and he had to stay,
And all I could do was wait and pray.
His letters told of the awful fight,
(I can see it still in my dreams at night),
With the tanks and guns and cruel barbed wire,
And the mines and bullets, the bombs and fire".
"Till at last, the war was won -
And that's why we wear a poppy, son".
The small boy turned as if to go,
Then said "Thanks, lady, I'm glad to know.
That sure did sound like an awful fight,
But your son - did he come back all right?
A tear rolled down each faded cheek;
She shook her head, but didn't speak
I slunk away in a sort of shame,
And if you were me, you'd have done the same;
For our thanks, in giving, is oft delayed,
Though our freedom was bought - and thousands paid.
And so when we see a poppy worn,
Let us reflect on the burden borne
By those who gave their very all
And asked to answer their country's call
That we at home in peace might live.
Then wear a poppy, Remember - and Give!
Lest we forget....
Author Unknown
Vintage Amehstit
Friday, November 9, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
By my Ma geleer ... ou se goed
By my ma my geleer het........
Ma het my geleer hoe om te bid:
"Jy moet bid dat daardie kol op die mat uit is as ek vanaand by die huis kom"
...Sy het my geleer van "time travel":
"Ek sal jou tot in volgende week in klap!"
Sy het my geleer pa's is slimmer en ryker as ma's:
"Gaan vra jou pa!"
Sy het my geleer oor plantkunde:
"Lyk dit vir jou of geld op my rug groei?"
Sy het my geleer om altyd nederig en klein te wees:
"Mannetjie !!!"
Sy het my van die weer geleer:
"Dit lyk of 'n dekselse orkaan jou kamer getref het!"
Sy het my geleer van fauna en flora:
"Moenie vir my vertel perredrolle is vye nie!"
Sy het my geleer om myself te ontdek:
"Hou op om jou soos jou pa te gedra!"
Sy het my die wetenskap van osmose geleer:
"Hou jou mond en eet jou kos!"
Sy het my geleer van uithouvermoë:
"Jy sal by daardie tafel sit totdat jy jou spinasie opgeëet het!"
Sy het my geleer van sintuie:
"Kinners word gesien en nie gehoor nie!"
Sy het my geleer van humor:
"Hou aan lag, dan gee ek jou iets om oor te huil ook!"
Sy het my van jaloesie geleer:
"Daar is duisende arm kinnertjies wat ouers soos joune begeer!"
Sy het geleer dat daar 'n plek en 'n tyd vir alles is:
"As julle mekaar wil vermoor, gaan doen dit buite! Ek't nou net hier
skoongemaak!"
Sy het my wiskunde geleer:
"Sit jy alweer en tanne tel!"
Sy het my logika geleer:
"Want ek sê so, dis hoekom!"
Sy het my geleer dat wonderwerke nog kan gebeur:
"Ek sal jou klap dat jy jou antie vir 'n eendvoël aansien as jy my weer terugantwoord!"
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
To old for Trick & Treating ...
Top 10 Signs You Might Be Too Old to Trick or Treat
10. You get winded from knocking on the door.
9. You have to have a kid chew the candy for you.
8. You ask for high fiber candy only.
7. When someone drops a candybar in your bag, you lose you balance and fall over.
6. People say, "Great Boris Karloff mask," and you're not wearing a mask.
5. When the door opens, you yell, "Trick or... ," and can't remember the rest.
4. By the end of the night, you have a bag full of restraining orders.
3. You have to carefully choose a costume that won't dislodge your hairpiece.
2. You're the only Power Ranger in the neighborhood with a walker.
And the number one reason Seniors should not go trick or treating:
1. You keep having to go home to pee.
10. You get winded from knocking on the door.
9. You have to have a kid chew the candy for you.
8. You ask for high fiber candy only.
7. When someone drops a candybar in your bag, you lose you balance and fall over.
6. People say, "Great Boris Karloff mask," and you're not wearing a mask.
5. When the door opens, you yell, "Trick or... ," and can't remember the rest.
4. By the end of the night, you have a bag full of restraining orders.
3. You have to carefully choose a costume that won't dislodge your hairpiece.
2. You're the only Power Ranger in the neighborhood with a walker.
And the number one reason Seniors should not go trick or treating:
1. You keep having to go home to pee.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Broken Angel ...
Broken angel
“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect - you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can.
She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.”
~ Bob Marley
Monday, October 1, 2012
Sometimes ...
♥ Sometimes you read more between the line,
than what is written on paper,
sometime you get it wrong sometimes right,
then other times you read what you need to hear♥
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Digbundel van Boerius
Gedigte van 'n Boer
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Boerius: Herstel ons poorte
Mure van gister
waar vervalle steen in mank bestaan
kronieke baar van dit wat was –
...die laggies wat so skoppelmaai
om steen en klip se swye draai;
die liefde en die leed gedeel
wat smôrensmossie klank soos mos
in songebakte vensters los,
maar nou in graf se stilte sak
die swye oor geroeste dak.
So staan my volk,
ook eens gevul van vreugdeklank
waar son oor ruie berge
in ligkrans oor die wolke span
waar elk na gisters nou verlang
in soeke na Nehemia moed
om Jerusalem se poorte te herstel
op te bou
en fees tot eer van God te hou!
12 September 2012
Lokaal Gevangenis, Pretoria
Boerius: Herfstuin
Kom pluk vir my papawers uit jou Boereplaas se tuin
waar herfs se son deur skugter skadu’s geel en vrolik skyn
Dit streel oor madeliefies en dit speel deur kapperkruid
Dit bons op bittereinder roos se laaste skoonheidspr...uik.
Die vygies in die voortuin, ballerina pienk getooi
wat hartelus seisoen se draai die koue winters nooi.
Viooltjiesaad word uitgestrooi, in strykstok grond gesaai
wat selfs die wintergrou se vaal in liefdeskleur verfraai.
Krisante by die boordekant bring herfs in volle kleur
wat in die oggend koeler lug vermeng in douvars geur.
Agapanthus en vuurpyle wat met nekkies uitgestrek
die korter dag se heimwee na die lentegroei verwek.
Mag ek dan in my mens se draai as laaste blommespel
my lofsang tot die Groot Tuinier in voorwinter vertel.
26 Maart 2012
Lokaal Gevangenis, Pretoria.
Skildery deur Marinda le Grange
Digbundel van Boerius kan aanlyn bestel word digitaal en hardekopie
Hardekopie:
78 Bladsye
Prys: R120 (posgeld ingesluit)
Besonderhede vir bestellings:
E-pos dan net u kwitansie en posadres waarheen die bundel gepos moet word na:
wilhelm.pretorius@yahoo.com
Betaling kan ook plaasvind deur middel van Paypal op die volgende webwerf:
http://www.wix.com/wilhelmpretorius/gietoffers_van_my_siel
Digitale weergawe kan direk gekoop word by:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/130967
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)












