Die plaas se helderblou lug
Is ‘n fantastiese gesig
Op ‘n groot wolk, helder wit
‘n goudgeel son wat daar sit
‘n Koel luggie wat trek
wat speel met die hare in jou nek
Die strale van die son
Vou jou in ‘n warm koekon
Die bloekoms gesels in die wind
Hulle gesels oor hul kind
“Het hy nie die oulikste blaartjies nie,
Kyk net die ou stammetjie”
Die gras groei welig rond
Die bossies is gesond
Vir die koeie is die bossies
Heerlike, sappige, kossies
Is die natuur nie pragtig
Met sy skoon, gesonde lug
Die silwer skoon waterstroompie
Is dit nie pragtig nie.
L.C.J. Engelbrecht
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