GEORGE NEWS - It is a great coincidence that Paddy Esselaar and Mel Walton, who have been friends since going to Holy Cross in George together, from Sub A to Matric in 1961, are both back in George and both have books in print. "We both left George to further our studies and only returned on holidays to visit our parents who lived here.
Then in 1996 we both returned with our husbands to retire here in George. Shortly after retirement we both lost our husbands and then we both started writing after we joined a writers group. Paddy can be reached at paddy@esselaar.co.za. Both Mel Walton and Paddy's books are available on sale at the Wilderness Hotel and at the Herold's Bay Cafe.
Moira Richards wrote the following crit on Paddy's poetry book - Wander through Wilderness:
"Poems of place share a poet's love for some special part of the world. Intriguing poetry of place brings to the reader, experience of the mystery and nuance that lie hidden behind picture-perfect holiday postcards. Memorable poetry of place braids human psyche with the moods of a landscape so that person and place each become metaphor for the other; the sonnet form, with its internal volta, works particularly well to effect such meshing.
The sonnets threaded through these poems for the Southern Cape's Wilderness region, together with rare mention of an unnamed 'you', whose absence and presence are equally palpable, create a beautiful and deeply moving celebration of both place and persons: a pagan requiem."
Here follows two of Paddy's poems:
There was no augury that this day
would dawn without a whisper to ruffle
the air. I hold my breath wanting to stifle
negative thoughts before they can fray
the weft of elation. Let this day unfold
slowly, like a fruit to be savoured,
the tongue pressing each nuance of flavour
into my mouth. Waves match my mood, doled
out languidly by the sea in an atmosphere
replete with promise. Mountains outlined clear
against the sky make me want to stretch out a hand
and touch, or take one stride and reach another land.
Anything can happen. I might fly clean off the earth,
so light are my steps on this morning of rebirth.
There are only a few of them left,
overgrown gardens of yesteryear
that ramble up the mountainside.
Instantly detectable by the dry
stone walls that buttress the beds
of old-fashioned flowers, they lure
children to enter worlds of fantasy
where Brer Rabbit outwits the fox,
the princess escapes the wicked witch
or Beau Geste takes improbable risks
to uphold an ideal. Shafts of sunlight
beckon adventurers into the darkness
to discover untrodden continents
hidden down tangled paths in Wilderness.
ARTICLE: PAULINE LOURENS, GEORGE HERALD JOURNALIST
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