Wailing
That night in the streets of my city
When I was alone
He appeared to me in a whisper of my memory
I knew that time had bound me in the threads of misery again
And my exposed suppression was revealed
The aching in my chest for forgotten company
Lured me into madness
It recreated my sadness
And he hadn’t even said my name.
*Photograph by Joy Goodenough
*Words by Ilva Pieterse
http://travelblog.portfoliocollection.com/
http://otherside-of-the-world.blogspot.com/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/greenhairmermaid/
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He placed a piece of plaster
In a mould one day
That told a story of the way
He wept in water
And talked in tunes
And how his pieces seemed confused.
Just then, a butterfly fell
Out of the realms
Of his incredible palms
And so he cast his spell.
*Photograph by Joy Goodenough
*Words by Ilva Pieterse
http://travelblog.portfoliocollection.com/
Ilva Pieterse
Ilva Pieterse: Writer
Since completing a BIS (publishing) degree at the University of Pretoria in 2001, Ilva has been involved in online and print publishing and media within various industries including information technology, gaming, social media, conferencing, government, consumer, and music – predominantly as a writer. Her yearning for wide open spaces and stress-free silences often takes her away from the city where she can allow the beauty of nature to re-ignite her creativity. She found her heart beats loudest when she is surrounded by the koppies of the mid-Karoo, specifically in a little town that time forgot – called Steynsburg.
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