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Shantal V.D Westhuizen Poem
Love is like a rose bush.
Winter comes and you think it has died.
But blooms again,
for it has only dried.
Some have thorns,
so handle love with care.
Cause a rose won't be a rose
and love won't be love.
If thorns weren't there.
Copyright © Shantal V.D Westhuizen | Year Posted 2011
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Shantal V.D Westhuizen Poem
Upon this box, settles the dust.
Forgotten are the memories and our thoughts of strong trust.
Holding moments of tears and pain,
memories of moonlights and rain.
Kisses of fear and strife,
a love sharing both sadness and life.
All contained in this box.
This wooden room which owns the gems, which shorn once in my being,
my heart is no longer with me.
My fingers, they feel upon this old dream.
My humanly instincts have lost that need,
to ever return and relive it all.
Let my love live within these wooden walls.
Copyright © Shantal V.D Westhuizen | Year Posted 2011
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Shantal V.D Westhuizen Poem
Enriching excellence has swept over me.
This fresh breath of ecstasy.
Love has searched through this valley of intimacy.
Beyond the boundaries I find this dream.
Pushing my heart to the max, to the extreme.
Bliss, in your heart these feelings unravel..
and I'm stepping on gold paths, turning from gravel.
Purely undressing my soul,
completely taking control.
I fall into the depth of your being,
as you discover the inner most layers of me.
Copyright © Shantal V.D Westhuizen | Year Posted 2011
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Shantal V.D Westhuizen Poem
Yesterday
Tomorrow’s just another chance.
While yesterday only held romance.
What makes yesterday better than tomorrow?
For yesterday only left you in sorrow.
Tomorrow is said to be much better, so you can start anew.
But yesterday will always be better,
For it was filled with you.
Copyright © Shantal V.D Westhuizen | Year Posted 2011
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Shantal V.D Westhuizen Poem
I retrace my steps.
Yet for sure, I know I've lost the path.
Alone I stumble in the dark.
I awake lonely,
with no you to hold me.
My body,
drenched with desire.
My commonsense,
calling my heart a liar.
This flood destroying the woman I am.
All for the love of one man.
Copyright © Shantal V.D Westhuizen | Year Posted 2011
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Shantal V.D Westhuizen Poem
What many hands brought alive such a design?
Much heartache and brokenness, has caused her to shine.
All the pain has placed her alone,
with sweet mysteries, totally unknown.
The cries for her, by men are all now violent,
in them wanting her, she stands silent.
Unaware of the beauty age has brought to her face.
Unaware of how pain has been replaced by grace.
Her soul is a gateway which almost traps,
her spirit is a river flowing through you, filling all gaps.
If her movements were less, she would be a statue.
She would be the feeling you never knew.
Her beauty, her sadness...
all she is, is so very unique.
value of this antique.
Copyright © Shantal V.D Westhuizen | Year Posted 2011
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