These walls have the pounding of hearts young and old <br /> <br />Sighs of longing echo past the windows <br /> <br />Breathing in humming beetles and rain <br /> <br />And out lost dreams and illusions <br /> <br />They nestle delicate children's skins <br /> <br />Gently sleeping away their innocence <br /> <br />And the pungent smell of slaughtered lambs <br /> <br />Passions and anger enmesh deep in its bowels <br /> <br />The open roof stares at mighty thunder and quiet stars <br /> <br />Chatter of bygone voices rattles through the doors <br /> <br />Layered in the chimney's ashes <br /> <br />There are still smouldering spews of rage <br /> <br />And mottled stew of freshly cooked potjie <br /> <br />Merry figures dance the sakkie-sakkie, others sing <br /> <br />Musky scents of ripe female busts and amorous men <br /> <br />All through the house old existences intertwine <br /> <br />These walls are pregnant with conspicuous pieces <br /> <br />Of bricks and lives trapped in eternity. <br /> <br /> <br />Alex Fan Moniz <br />'Colours of South Africa' 2013<br /><br />Alex Fan Moniz<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/these-walls-17/
