Vir die dae wat die gedagtes nie wil pad langs hou nie... Dan se mens dankie vir die klank bord van papier.
Ek is nie 'n professionele skrywer nie.. ek is nie 'n digter nie.. miskien nie altyd nugter nie... Vasgevang op verkeerde planeet in 'n verkeerde tyd... Woon tans op die eiland van Australasië.. 'n Vlerklose engel op 'n Harley-Davidson.. oppad na erens.. oppad na nerens.....
Skryf nie baie gedigte nie. Maar die wat ek wel geskryf het, is baie naby aan my hart. Jesus is my alles! En deur elke storm wat al plaasgevind het in my lewe, was HY altyd daar om my op te tel en my deur...
deur Rachelle du Bois
As she sat down on her suitcase, despair almost overwhelmed her. The events of the past week should have prepared her for something like this – this old house with this overgrown garden in this godforsaken little town in the eastern Free State of South Africa, which was left to her by a grandmother she had not known existed. But as she steadily began uncovering the secrets of her granny’s and her mother’s past, she found her destiny here, irrevocably linked to her smouldering neighbour, Julian du Toit. He'd made a promise to her grandmother that he fully intended to keep.
