Nelson Mandela died today
and I got an “A” for
my final poetry assignment.
South Africa held on to Nelson
with long time medical care
as he faded away at 95.
They did not want him to go.
Now they must find and
recognise their own strength
within themselves,
make their own lives,
their own world.

I have finally got an “A”,
I feel I am getting somewhere
with my writing.
I want to do more courses
on writing but do not have the money.
I must write independently
without the structure of
teachers and classes.

Worlds have been cut loose
from their anchors today.
South Africa is cut loose.
I am cut loose.




A good friend on the phone
from far away around the world,
who just listens, then I listen
on our annual New Year call.
We go on to talk on all kinds of topics
while he drinks his evening whiskey,
I drink my morning cup of tea.

We recall my time in his country
discuss happenings for people we know,
events in the world,
movies and books.
No pressure, just a chat
as we sit in the comfort
of our own homes
enjoying each other’s company
long after we parted.



A Piece For Sewing Machine

She formed the felt with natural fleeces
in grey, brown, and black,
light and dark
moulding them into seamless sheets.

She over sewed it in colours ever changing
in each of the different shapes,
mingling narrow slabs with thin triangles,
taking unfamiliar many sided shapes
around new corners to collide
with conventional shapes.

The colours are stitched in merging patches
with a sheen in swirling circles:
opulent red – orange – yellow,
rich purple – blue – turquoise.
Strong white is sprinkled with rainbow specks
dark brown scattered with white daubs.

The felted sheet is now
a shifting kaleidoscope of
colours, shapes, lights,
lustrous in the light.



A Piece For Sewing Machine