My father gave me Grimm’s Fairy Tales
and copied the words of my favourite
Chris-Blignaut song – Oom Boggom in
die Boeliebiefblik* – playing the song
over and over so I could sing along
My mother flitted about, wearing her
designer’s top, happily ensconced in
her own life, oblivious to my father’s
existence, we sang while she
accompanied us
Gerhard gave me a lift on his bike, the
sensation of wind and speed is new to me,
I can’t begin to describe it, only know I’m
addicted; my sister’s red Scooter is fun,
but that big blue Suzuki is the real one
My sister showed me the old-age home where
she works, her little garden planted with wild-
growing flowers, the mall in the poorer part
of town abounding with rough people
wearing worn faces
Gerhard explained he had the same trouble
at work, after an hour’s intense concentration
he also ran up and down, sharing the same
hyperactive inquisitiveness, as well as my
memories of dysfunctional family life…
I came home loaded with books my father
bequeathed and the memory of the
melody my mother played – I am
the tune she created
so masterfully…
* Mr Baboon in the “Bully Beef tin”
Margaret Alice
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-the-tune-she-created-so-masterfully/
