Wanneer ek na jou beeld staar
sien ek almal wie ek het en ooit sal liefhê
en jou oë ‘n blou somerslug
wat die kern van my siel opwarm
Die albaster perfeksie van jou gelaat
bekroon jou glansende skoonheid
Jou uitlokkende mond trek my nader
om jou soet smaak te geniet
om jou geheime te raai
versteek agter ‘n enigmatiese glimlag
Jy is soos ‘n geheime rendezvous
begeer deur almal
Tyd kan nie gedifineer word nie
want jy is oneindigend
in jou vryheid
Gesig van my geliefde
die aangesig van liefde


When I gaze upon your countenance
I see all who I have and will still love
and your eyes a blue summer sky
warming the very core of my being
The alabaster perfection of your skin
crowning your lustrous beauty
Your inviting mouth drawing me in
to savour your sweet taste
to guess at your secrets
hidden behind an enigmatic smile
You are like a secret rendezvous
hankered after by all
Time cannot be defined
for you are infinite
in your freedom
Face of my beloved
the face of love

Inspired by:
The Face of Love, by Ingrid Jonker


The rose colour of your mouth
stirs something primordial inside of me –
I smile along with you.
Plump little hands reach for my face.
I hold still
while you explore my heart with a feathery touch.

When you are asleep,
I look over the papers of your collage fund.
We could make it
if we would forsake frivolities.
It will be no hardship for me to do so.
I smile contentedly.

The boxer puppy lying at my feet;
quite content–
its stomach pink and extended:
he ate too greedily
(as usual).
You will grow up together
and share our unconditional love.

The cricket bat,
signed by the national team,
takes pride of place in its brackets on your bedroom wall –
a pale dove blue
(matching the colour of your eyes).
A gift from your dad –
sure that you would follow in his footsteps.
A rainbow of possibilities prostrate at your feet.

I check every now and again
whether you are breathing.
Sleeping soundly,
neither a frown upon your smooth face,
nor a care in the world.
Your long, black eyelashes quiver slightly,
as though following a dream –
a dream we all shared:
a dream of boundless expectations …


Exhuming long forgotten memories;
mingling with my fevered tears –
echoing my breaking heart.

They lead you away.
Assaulting the arresting officer
had sealed your fate.

Mildewed expectations
best laid to rest
together with the memories of you.

The sky has lost its colour,
as I step outside the courtroom.

© 2013 Suzette Crous

Table Mountain

The mild Cape Town winter weather
triggers blooming of the Heather.
The Erica shines their lanterns
among the Foxtail Ferns.
The white clouds overhead feather.

The Silver Trees create a foil
against which the flora toil.
The King Proteas are gearing up
to supply a feast for birds to sup.
The Cape Cobras in slumber coil.

The Aloes have many a use
and can withstand much abuse.
The fiery red Cape Honeysuckle
led the cultivated hedges to buckle.
Mountain fires lit by the obtuse.

Our proud heritage was in full bloom –
a rambling pathway the only room.
Scorched earth, naked and black;
sustenance of the soil now sadly lack.
The canon on Signal Hill boom.

Official New 7 Wonders Inauguration of Table Mountain in Cape Town: 2 December 2012

No More Hallelujah

My love for you will never fade
You locked the door; my bed I’ve made
A face in the crowd reminds me: so you
The smile at tilt; the voice that lilt
The auburn hair; the skin so fair
My tender heart skips a beat: Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your eyes held mine, a magic spell
The pain I felt was a pleasing hell
No one could e’ver compare to you
You touched my face with your hand
The time all round came to a stand
From my soul I moaned: Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Love’s tender touch now in the past
Around I’d see: Nothing e’er last
The things I did could’ve blew’ you
The cars I drove at such high speed
The fast life our friends would lead
We did not understand the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I tempted you with a bit of *snow
You didn’t at first want to know
If y’ didn’t know how I’d show you
The surreal dream showed on your face
Everything moved at a faster pace
You shouted my name: Hallelujah!

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You pulled away then from me
I was begging for you please to see
What this was doing to us; to you
All that mattered was the crave
Your life given over to a rave
You’ve shut me out in this Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your beauty faded before my eyes
The pain you caused with all your lies
I couldn’t bear to see what we did to you
Your dreams had fallen and paranoid
The reality, now null and void
A syringe, your only Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah

On our true love I will always dine
To’ve turned back to another time
To happy times I loved and knew you
For bringing you into this ruin
Sorry! This was all my doin’
For me there will be no more Hallelujah.

NO MORE HALLELUJAH, © 17 January 2013 Suzette Crous

*snow: slang for cocaine

Inspired by the song HALLELUJAH copyright © Leonard Cohen

The Caged Bird Sings

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

Walking bare feet through the warm mud,
worms of slush squeezing between toes,
spring breezes quickening the blood,
forgiving and forgetting woes.
Stretching out like a promised land,
aspiration gloriously beams.
Running through the fingers like sand,
time we had studiously planned.
The privileged heritage streams,
but a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams

Freedom is but a dream perceived,
not appreciate’ when in grasp.
Accolades our right when received,
the sweat of our brow and breaths rasp.
Of injustices a defender,
a tome wasting many a ream.
Respect, honor should engender,
but to enmity surrender.
Life lived to the very extreme,
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream

Opportunity’s there for all;
talents are bestowed on many.
Listen to the instinctive call.
Regrets? We did not hear any.
Pioneering endeavors offered,
but through ignorance let it slide
Optimize chances proffered:
careful analysis ordered.
One wrong decision, woe betide,
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied

Hamstrung by accident of birth,
but blessed with inner resolve
and an occasion for mirth:
laughter all melancholy solve.

Glimpsing freedom from oppression,
idyllic occasion rising.
His music, only obsession.
Talent, his only possession.
Much pleasure in lives it did bring,
so he opens his throat to sing.

INSPIRED BY: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou