Some time ago I left my home, far away in the African sun.
I boarded a plane for a foreign land,
my new life had begun.
But still some nights as I drift away,
I hear a cricket's call.
My mind wanders off to another place.
to Acacia trees, proud and tall.
I dream of my home in Africa,
of a place so wild and free.
I remember well my garden,
in the shade of the giant fig tree.
It's not that I regret my new life,
or wish to be somewhere else.
It's just that I dream of Africa,
of a wild and untamed place.
3 comments:
Jayne, what a lovely reflective piece. Your two lives are poles apart and one will never replace the other. What wonderful memories you must have.
Thanks Keith - I was having a nostalgia moment. Could be something to do with a new site one of my lovely customers in the shop sent me to. It's a real time webcam set up in a game reserve in South Africa that you can watch live. They also go on game drives twice a day - real fun.
http://www.wildearth.tv/home pop along and have a look. I also have my own page but regret it's also a little neglected at the moment - sigh, a shop girl's life is always a busy one :)
Awww, you do miss Africa, don't you? Why you don't write more poetry, I'll never understand.
Crystal Dawn
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