At Hennie and Rosie’s Wedding

At Hennie and Rosie’s wedding,

floral girls danced

in silver sandals

and silver balls rolled across lawns as

neat as napes of

dapper beaux.

Streamers flew liked ribbons

of paint

from boys’ hands

into the sky.

And Hennie and Rosie

gazed into each other’s


smiles as wide as their hopes

and dreams.

At Hennie and Rosie’s wedding

tears brimmed from eyes overflowing

with memories,

and children caught glimpses

of futures

as clear and bright as ormolu


from ladies’ ears.

Men gazed in wonder

at the next generation;

wondering where life

had gone

and what was to come.

And Hennie and Rosie


their touch as firm

and light as a kiss –

and their smiles as wide

as the mountains.

– Shelagh Foster


First eland

When winter comes

I feel and breathe

the air with desperate gratitude.

My dreams of space and light and sky

become a walk in solitude.

The hoar crisp stalks of fresh burnt grass,

the icy winds, the distant hills

all call me

to their sacred space

where lungs expand and

feet embrace

the awkward path,

which stirs my mind

to thoughts of fresh-born


When winter comes

I draw it close

to join me in my stride.

My wind-chilled limbs, my head held high

all relish in the find

as there, beyond relentless rise

those creatures stand with fearless gaze

‘Respect’ they say

‘Or we will flee’

and this I heed

for they are me.

and my reward

for months of heat

is beasts, so splendid

none compete…

And I hear it

beneath my panting breath,

that secret sound

below the wind,

those subtle clicks,

a pause, and more…

And I raise my eyes

to the airbrushed sky

and thank God

for this holy ground.