Sunday, 31 January 2016



What do fisherman think?

Spotted a lone fisherman on my walk. Almost went to sit next to him to ask some questions, but stopped myself. Now I am home and I wonder.

My fisherman thinker

I want to sit there on your spot...
Exactly the same to see what you got
In line with your brain
I want what you gain.
You stare out ahead
Not a move, like the dead
But what do you see and what do you think
Your eye is the path to the oceans full link.
Does the water mesmerize you on its hook?
Do you read the movement like a book?
Do you see God there linger?
Drawing patterns with His finger?
Or is there a storm raging in your head?
About things at home and things that you dread?
But the stress will escape
through the rod to the bait
As the sea is the gate
for the patient who wait.

My fisherman stranger
Do you know about the manger?
Where God reels us in
To follow now Him
Catch the fish while you can
Then the fish will be man.
Take this hook, line and sinker
My fisherman thinker.         

Today I spoke to my fisherman. He is a retired gentleman and spends up to 4 hours fishing at a time. And what does he think?
Peace. He says he is just totally peaceful and forgets about the world. It is just him and the ocean. That is how it should be.  I told him that my foster father told me that the time  fishermen spend fishing, is not counted to their age. No wonder he looked so young.
The first time I approached my fisherman, he had no front teeth. The perfect image of being who you are when you fish. Then when I asked to take the photo, the teeth reappeared in their place.


The Sea Dance
The sea at the bottom the sea at the top
Reflecting each other God ordered its job.
From one end to the other
The colours are made
From darkest to brightest and lightest of shades
With me in the centre the smallest of space
But God gave His breath and made me His race.
So all of this bigness and wonders I see,
I do seem so little, woe dust it is me.
Then like the breakers my Jesus fell down
Spilling his blood like a wave without sound
And out of the darkness he carried me up
To share in His likeness I drank from His cup. 
And wonders of wonders saved by the King
Seated in heaven sealed with His ring.
To live now forever come walk here with me
Make Jesus your Saviour and dance by the sea.


Ankles anchored in front line waves
eyes mesmerised, by Niagara caves.
The pool of  Bethesda is stirred
My soul in the water emerged.
each wave to my God subside
Not haphazard, moon hypnotised
Arms splash up in praise
Domino’s reaction, Mexican wave.
The rhythm of the day,
God’s hands shaping clay.
 This book called the sea,
the Bible and me.
Same Book, new story,
from glory to glory

Die see strand het n skulp gespoel

Uit onder water diepe poel

Oop vouend brander skuimend hand

Polsend hart van God wat brand

Lankal vir my uitgekies
Soos Moses in sy mantjie bies.


Elke More Nuut

‘n koel oggend luggie proe aan my wang

Voor -strale groete van God opgevang.

Splinternuwe liefde, genade ontplof

Dis God in sy Eerste, O kniee gee lof.  


Before my congretation.

I know when you look at me you see nakedness.

(Open their eyes to see Your garment, Jesus.)

I see that stone in your hand.

Drop it.

Walk a path where there are no stones to pick up.

Stop judging.

Look, the sun is as round as your stone.

Take the Son in your hand.

Throw the Son.

Shoot from the hip.

Jacobs hip.

Bleed light, bleed healing, bleed glory, bleed Jesus.

Kill egos, kill self.

Make a difference.


Jesus forgives me.

Not for my stripping

(that is done years ago.)

New sins New beginnings.

Every day.

Jesus loves me.

A sunrise just hit me, birds flock in my eye

Clouds and the whale, one breath in the sky.

Enormous wonders and only God’s sound

A cocktail on overload


Swaying to its wooing;

Sold out surrendered  embraced.


 A Picture of Us (1982)

Your little body fits my hands, 
Kindred seedlings future grand
Growing faster past my brain
Empty nest and faraway planes.

Now wrinkles in my hands  I hold
years of love in golden old

Fear and wonder fully Thine
The greatest gift and so sublime

Love and peace and joy for you
God has promised, so it’s true.

Happy birthday  final word
God will bless, His love superb.

To Kim 
from your mother.
Glenda Harper.



Fynpoot kaal voetjies

Grofglas klippad

Taal helder klokkies

En rinkhals patat

Gebore plat Anna

Ontmoet toe die prins

So stotter vaal dans

Omarm sy wind.

Wat ek hier se: My wortels kom uit daar waar Afrikaans plat en ongewas is. Eers op die ouderdom van 16 is die deur oopgemaak, en vir die eerste keer ontmoet ek hierdie pragtige prins met die mond vol goud.

Gedigte en boeke is toe waar jy my sal vind. Hoog op die takke lees hardop vir die wind.

(En toe trou ek Engels en die wiele val af- tot baie later deur fb se blad.)

n Skaam ope liefde is nou vasgebrand,en tog so gehakkel as ek in geselskap moet land.

So hier op my komper, verlief op die taal, verflenterde kaalvoet klonkie,
verberg agter n rekenaar.



People passing spilled their guts,

Speaking trash that made their cut.

All this rubbish, what a shame

Alcohol bottles left their stain, 

It’s this country, shoot it down,

 I am spotless watch my crown.

I was there the day before

Seeing Jesus’ handle door.

Saw these people find escape

Blind to truth and Jesus’ drapes.

Prayed their hand the bottle miss

Grip the handle to perfect bliss.

Then with Jesus there to dine

Washed away litter, story sublime.

No one set them litter free

If no one tells them how can they be?

Jesus send me this I know

My sign says God bless you

          let the litter go.

Read between the lines I pray

Jesus loves you He’s the way.

Don’t complain, do something! So I did something. No one taught these people not to litter! No one taught me how not to litter with my punctuation and grammar! Come on, back off with accusations and slander that is cruel,  give us a lesson of love on how to apply this rule. So this aunty in her state, brought forth words to which I can relate. Words resting on a wall, showing love where litter falls.

“Dear celebrators,

A very good day and greetings to you.

Just a friendly request; please remember to use the litter bins for the rubbish.

May you greatly enjoy your festivities.

God bless you.

Much love from a fellow beach lover.

Aunty Glenda.”


Wednesday, 20 January 2016



I am grateful for having eyes that can see with the spirit. Waves enter as dancers in a major production; stones bubble with water delight as waves pull back over their ticklish bellies; sand is actually star glitter (with a bit of help from the sun); shells are personal gifts grown from God.  When the rain shares it’s wetness with me, I ‘grow’.  I can rest my head on the skyline of greens and yellows, of sticks and bricks and get clouds stuck in my hair. Life is a powerful sermon. I love life.
(Picture taken from the internet.)


I am grateful for quiet time with my Lord. From there I live and move and have my being.

(Picture taken from the internet.)


I am grateful for sunrises. They have their own DNA. New in their relationship with every object it falls on. I love the way it sends its light ahead of its presence. From where I live, the sun sleeps inside the big ocean and makes me quiver with anticipation when the first roundness pushes through the water. I love sunrises.
From glory to glory.


From “glory to glory” comes to mind. Today’s beauty walk in the Bible followed me out to the walk  by the ocean.  Here I saw eye to eye with a sun that is outshone by the Son; cloud- samples that reflect His coming; waters and sky melted like glass at the throne room. I picked shells like flowers   and arrived home to be met by two rainbows, stuck like feather emeralds, on the side of my house.

Shells pounce at me as a word would from the Book.   Cultivated in the deep with my name on the tide; like a sentence of letters, full stop by my side.

 I am grateful for my old age.   Time to do all the things I love. AND wrinkles don’t hurt.

Walking in the rain.



But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26


And now for something lighter; I am grateful for a warm bath in cold weather. Being lowered into that water is like indulging in a box of chocolates.

I am grateful for Ferrero Roches chocolates; the way they invade your mouth in instalments.  Slowly undressing until the last nut and your molars embrace in a crush. Mmmm   (The only chocolate I eat.)


I am grateful for long walks. It is my feet that take me there but it is my spirit that builds the six- pack. In step with my feet, through my eyes I swallow the medication of health and it tastes sweet.
Tree Sculpture

Trees. They live! From the dough of my God, moulded to perfection in art. 


Thursday, 14 January 2016

DRIFTWOOD "Open my eyes to the wonderful truths in your instructions" Psalm 119:18

One log; many days; many moods; few words; big relationship.
Driftwood: Brown then white then black. Tide sucked log-in, log-out.
Me: upright, sideways, crawl, slither, snap, snap, snap shot. (Insideoutupsidedown.)
Figure 1  One driftwood; many faces.
Figure 2 Dance.  "Let them praise His name with the dance; ..." (Psalm 149:3).
Figure 3"My root is spread out to the waters, And dew lies all night on my branch." Job 29:19
Figure 4 Lock grip. (See white foam hand.) Reminds me of Jacob wrestling with God in Genesis 32:24-30
Figure 5 "For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks (Luke 6:45).
Figure 6  "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary ..." (2 Corinthians 4:18).
Figure 7 "... If I will not open for you the windows of heaven And pour out for you such blessings That there will not be room enough to receive it" (Malachi 3:10)
Figure 8 "Yes Lord, yet even the little dogs under the table eat from the children's crumbs" (Mark 7:28)
Figure 9 Birth. “That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. DO not marvel that I said to you, 'You must be born again'” (John 3:6-7).
Figure 10 "Therefore we must give the more earnest heed to the things we have heard, lest we drift away' (Hebrews 2:1).
Figure 11 And when I saw Him I fell at His feet as dead. But He laid His right hand on me, saying to me, "Do not be afraid; I am the First and the Last. I am He who lives, and was dead, and behold, I am alive forever more. Amen. ... (Revelation 1:17-18)

The next 2 shots taken 28 November 2016

Shadow boxing. Just what do you see?

Figure 12 Driftwood photographer (Glenda Harper) on all fours - Easter doggy pushing through to see what I see.
[tags driftwood, truths, eyes, alive forever, birth, born again, blessings, lock grip, Jacob]
 And then ...

Tree Sculpture

Trees. They live! From the dough of my God, moulded to perfection in art.      more of my mind.

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