Shy

I’m a squirrel, I’m always on the run,
I rush, I dash, I never seem to stop.
You see I am scared, I’m terrified.
I’m such a nervous wreck.  My body
shakes, my heart is in my mouth.
My eyes are everywhere, my ears will
listen for a sound, a noise, a giveaway;
a broken twig, so I can dash, and run,
to find a place, where I can secrete,
conceal, or hide, I’m even known to
hibernate.  I lead a very jumpy life,
yes I’m timid, full of  fear,
and yes you would say I’m shy.

22 February 2007

Resolve

On stony ground, a small black beetle,
a scarab struggles; stubbornly he toils,
to push, to roll a large brown ball of dung.
When ball sticks, he tries a pull, if no go, he  
climbs on top and crawls forward on the dung;
the ball rolls forward under extra weight.
The beetle falls, gets up and begins to push again.
He repeats this many many times, a push, a pull,
a climb, a fall, get up, push on, till ball of dung
finds resting hole, and is a larder for the young.
Scarab fights not for self, it has no selfish
thought of that, he perseveres, he carries on,  
he ensures survival for the life that is to come.

19 February 2007

Appretiation

Row upon row of thin flat clouds,
sliced smooth, their bottoms gone,
stretch, far as eye can see, moisture
there, no promise rain is guaranteed.
The filtered sun, beats down relentlessly
dries this thirsty dehydrated land.  A
scrub land now, tufts of burnt dry grass,.
small straggly acacia trees sparsely leafed,
thorns bent, fight vainly, for height and width.
No water here, ground is parched, earth dry,
powdered soil, dust clouds fly.
Life is hard, few creatures here, more
death than life, vultures circle overhead.  

Lone large presence in this stark dry land,  
a large dead tree shows better days have
come and gone, Trunk smooth, shaded
grey by sun and wind, no bark to spoil
its  sheen.  Dead; dried out, breaking down,
its twisted upright arms, cry out, implore,
please, please see the beauty, that I was.

Sun still beats down, in distance heat waves rise,
a lone jackal walks head down in search of prey,
black back appears bent in shimmering light.  
Alongside a rutted dusty road of dirt, a long line
of tall straight poles dissect this barren land.  They
carry light, cool air, give life to distant town.
Lets hope, give a wish, a prayer for better things.

Gazing up clouds have darkened, a distant rumble,
wind blows, its cooler now.  Sky blackens, noise is
closer, a flash of light, it grumbles now.  Look to the
horizon, hope appears, a swirl of black, moves up and
down, a dancing dervish shape, that twists and shouts its
raining now.  Great big life giving drops of water fall,
the parched earth sighs, and gladly opens up to accept
the heavenly tears, land happy, moisture falls, ground wet.
Storm overhead now, everywhere lightning bolts display,
a thanksgiving festival of light, a gala celebration with
thunder rolls of gratitude, for pouring rain, moistened
earth, and the lake that forms the dam that’s full of joy.

20 February 2007

My African Adventure

Morning breaks with decorated birds song
Sunshine strikes face with ever-warming gong
Inhaling innocent nature’s scent
An African dawn so Heavenly sent
Sounds more magical than any instrument played
The Creator commanded for these to be uniquely made
Great and minute they all subsist in perfect harmony
Human nature should consider adopting this symphony
Roaring power is head of the throne
Growling, howling, bellowing become echoing tone
Promptest sprinter is awarded additional days in life
Respect is stressed by these mighty, significant Five
Each creature blends in with defensive group
Inseparable and continuously overcoming unpredictable coup
“Wild” is no category to enlist such as these
While Kings and nations perish, they still co-exist with ease
Tourist attraction
Prohibited Retraction
Africa’s dream
Hollywood’s theme
A haven authorizing connection with nature
So tranquil, feeling of being closer to the Creator
Devoted souls sacrificing unconditional hours
Granting humans the African adventure that is lawfully ours
At the heart of the jungle
Lies Africa’s treasured riddle
South Africa, nature’s gateway
Our parks lead the path, destiny not so far away
More treasured than gold, even tougher than iron
The reward lies in the eyes of the mighty lion

By Prudence “Pruluv” Mathebula

Kruger Mornings

A warm Kruger morning
the sun just rising in the sky,
Orange globe so round so fiery,
makes shadows on the ground.

Our eyes are open, we’re wide awake,
our faces full of joy,
once more exhilarated, keyed up,
and eager, for our safari up ahead.  
Excitement builds
we leave our hutted camp,
to seek out Gods creatures
great and small.

As we begin our drive,
the first light of day breaks,
softly at first,
Then slowly it brightens
and illuminates
hidden places of the bush.

Exciting this time before the noon of day
with sun so hot it burns, it
forces all to seek the shade
that’s cool,
to avoid  the heat of afternoon.

Mornings are best to view the game.  
Rested from the cool of night,  
Impala with eyes so big
so brown so bright,
prance, cavort and play,
tiny tails a wag, as
they frolic, skip and jump,
they seem to play follow me.

Looking up at sky now blue,
vultures soar on air that’s warm,
wisps of clouds come into view
and other birds appear.  

Full of grace the Bataleur
so French,
so striking this bird of prey,
short tail,
feathers black and tawny,
face and feet blood red.  
            
It floats quietly by
then turns,  
swooping quickly and with guile,
it captures prey upon the ground,
claws outstretched,  
a splash of  red, of
black, of  blue,
it seizes Roller in the grass.

Coming by and flying high,
another kite this one has yellow bill,
feathers brown, and tail with fork.
Head down it preys like hawk,
eyes searching out his prey
of chicks, of mice, or even ants.

A cloud, a million Queleas
with red bill,
swarming, as one they move,
flying like a coaster ride.  
Up above them falcons soar
and hunt.
Wings folded tight,
ensure great speed
as they swoop down on swarm
to catch and feed.

Wildebeest and Zebra graze,
while Warthog with tails erect
scurry by with young in tow,
and a lone Snake Eagle
perches on a branch.  

In grass that encroaches on the road,
Francolins hide,
a Snake slithers out on to the road,
its head raised
it menaces with forked tongue.

Brown patches of veld
now appear,
ants are busy moving house,
Hyena saunters slowly by,
while monkeys play amongst the trees.
A Mongoose family play,
curious,
as we approach
they hurry scared to grass that’s long.

We cross a bridge,
below Water buck
graze and drink,
a  Saddle billed stork,
tall,
red bill,
feathers black and white.
Another stork has Yellow bill,
Goliath Heron  standing still,
Crocodiles asleep upon the bank.

Later Giraffe
beanpole neck, head perched high,
huge brown eyes, lashes long,
a mouth, with curling tongue,  
a face,  a human one,
that smiles.
Four long legs,
a tiny tail,
it moves along with tiny steps,
to browse on leaves
in trees with thorns.

Eagerly we search for game,
hoping we will spot a cat
before they decide to hide
and take a nap.  
A lion, cheetah, or leopard,
so we can claim we saw,
and mark position on the map,
with coloured pin.
Others then can view our finds,
that is if they haven’t  
moved away.

Elephant, Buffalo, Rhino, Lion, Leopard,
other tourists come to view these five.  
Eagerly they hunt and seek,
so they can say they’ve seen
big five.  
Fervently
they seek them out,
missing other beauty all about.
Shame it is they cannot see
the rest of Kruger’s many charms.
  
So quiet,
so peaceful to be here,
we feel like
we’re in another world,
and so we are,
for it is a special place
this wonderland
this paradise
called Kruger Park.  

Every year we have returned,
to haunt, explore, enjoy,
wonder,
and be thrilled,
by magic early morning drives,
that have revealed
the hidden riches of the bush.

Thank you Kruger Park
our nations pride,
for all the countless pleasures
you provide;
it has been our luck and joy
to have explored
your treasure trove
of natures many gifts.

Yes we will be back next year.

Bob Blackwell
11 September 2006