Travelling between places

By Arnia Kiara Oosthuizen

In a few days my family and I will be jetting off to San Antonio, Texas. I can almost not contain my excitement!! Already planning my outfits and itinerary, whilst trying to study for exams...

I have a wanderlust in me, that is just killing me. Every day, I want to explore and have the urge to see and experience things!!!! San Antonio will be the first of many!

A sketch of Brian Patten by an anonymous artist

Anyway, I found a poem about a traveller in The Poet's Sphere:

Travelling between places

Leaving nothing and nothing ahead;
when you stop for the evening
the sky will be in ruins,

when you hear late birds
with tired throats singing
think how good it is that they,

knowing you were coming,
stayed up late to greet you
who travels between places

when the late afternoon
drifts into the woods,
when nothing matters specially.

-Brian Patten

My curiosity to see the world, will one day be satisfied. But for now, I can dream and plan until then!

Love,
The Wanderluster

The Winter Trees

By Arnia Kiara Oosthuizen

"Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words"- Robert Frost

An amazing friend of mine gave me, The Poet's Sphere, a poetry book. What an amazing gift! And since it is Winter here in South-Africa and we are freezing I found a poem about Winter.

In the woods near the university.

The Winter Trees

Against the evening sky the trees are black,

Iron themselves against the iron rails;

The hurrying crowds seek cinemas or homes,

A cozy hour where warmth will mock the wind.

They do not look at trees now summer's gone, 

For fallen with their leaves are those glad days

Of sand and sea and ships, of swallows, lambs,

Of cricket teams, and walking long in woods.

Standing among the trees, a shadow bends

And picks a cigarette-end from the ground;

It lifts the collar of an overcoat,

And blows upon its hand and stamps its feet-

For this winter, chastiser of the free,

This is winter, kind only to the bound.

CLIFFORD DYMENT

I love poetry because it awakens feelings and emotion within you, just by using words. I hope you have a warm winter's day or a nice summer's day, wherever you are.

With love xx

Home by Alison Hugo

By Arnia Kiara Oosthuizen

I saw this beautiful poem about my amazing country in the menu of Mike's Kitchen. The poem is written by Alison Hugo.

Home

This is no ordinary country, this country of ours.

This is the land of the Atlantic and the Indian,

the bottom of the deepest, darkest Africa.

This is the place people dream of visiting,

yearning for adventure.

The country of mud huts and skyscrapers.

This is the 'it' spot, the heart of kwaito, jazz and soul;

the hyperbole of diversity.

Many worlds in one: the Lowveld, Highveld, Bushveld and Seaside,

Morningside and Transkei;

home to every fashion, flavour, colour and culture you can think of.

Bobotie, koeksusters, bunnychow, biltong -

all the best the rest of the world doesn't offer.

This is where it all goes down and hopes are high.

Bergie, businessman, beach bum, bru.

This is gumboot dancing, game watching, curio-selling and

taxi-driving.

Beautiful , raw, sophisticated, awe-inspiring.

Energy so electrifying you can feel it in your soul.

This is all of the above , all at the same time.

This is South-Africa; this is Mike's Kitchen.

Our sunsets! How can you not love this?

I am proud to call this my country. Even with all the problems, politics, loadshedding- I still love this place.