seven long years

manfred walter oellermann 10/11/1941 -06/10/2002

does your magnificent energy now explore the spirals of history
and future, are your questions answered and new mysteries found?
i miss the calm of your balance, the tenderness of your caring,
the stimulation of your mind. i miss you!
until we meet again ...


remembered

tonight, cold night
scarf wound, collar turned up
shoulders hunched against the chill
the night country clear

stars bright against the black sky
head tipped back,eyes drawn
to heaven's artwork
and i remembered you

i remembered summer nights
creeping, suffocating heat
i felt again the warmth of bricks
where we would sit to catch the cool

i remembered an african sky
your arm lifted,embracing the firmament
showing, teaching, sharing
your amazement at the wonder of the stars

seven long years of separation
and i have learned to live without you
the ache of missing, less probing perhaps
until the act of memory brings you to my side

in my mind i lie star gazing
my head at rest in your lap
my heart at peace in your company
in the seeping summer heat

the night chill bites
memory fades into reality's background
my eyes alone follow these stars
i inhabit a world without you

Copyright © 2009 by Eryll Oellermann

fair warning

come wednesday - i' m leaving on a jet plane.

new york, new york ... bagels for breakfast, new york pizza and affordable jack daniels!

i'll be gone about three weeks and probably won't find much time for blogging.

should anything spectacularly exciting happen ... i will of course keep you informed ;-)

scotch mist

the village where i hang my hat










i wear glasses. without them the world is a blur. warning for
the innocent ... there is a wee drug called tamoxifen! 'they'
use it for estrogen affected breast cancers, it has some really
nasty side effects. my oncologist at the time, a man of great
arrogance, did not bother to inform me of any of the possible
consequences before i took the meds.
when i complained that my formerly great eyesight
was deteriorating at a rate of knots...
he said...
"hmmmm, well, that does sometimes happen, usually only in
older people.!
needless to say at the time i was mad as a snake. fortunately
life goes on, we adapt or die.

damn, every time i say adapt or die, i remember p w botha
(prime minister (1978–84) and first state president (1984–89)
of South Africa) haranguing us vote carrying white south
africans. his 'crossing the rubicon' speech i think the
press called it. i don't remember the actual speech, just p w
glowering,stabbing his finger at the camera and instructing us
to 'adapt or die'. yeah, yeah, i know, but, south african politicians
tended to be extremely paternalistic in the bad old days ...





yes people! you may well mutter ...
"that reef is starting to write like a history lesson!)
it happens, if you live long enough ...
one day you wake up and realise ...
"omg! i was alive in the olden days."

what was the point of this story anyway?
ah yes...

yesterday, i went for an early morning walk - it does happen!
the day was ... damp, scotch mist seeping through the village,
dampening sound. now scotch mist, whilst not exactly being rain,
is still quite wet. it wraps you in a mini cloak of cloud. my
glasses don't have windscreen wipers, so ...
i took them off.
without my glasses my world is a monet like blur. still
beautiful, definitely lacking definition. i send up a small
prayer that i will not snob friendly fellow villagers due to my
inability to focus!

at the south end of the village, between the shaley shore and
the "king's arms farm" is a large pond. said pond is home
to three beautiful swans and one lonely (?) heron.
i have not seen the heron for many weeks, i though he/she might
have left for warmer climes.
yesterday, even without my glasses ...

the heron was back.