He told old tales, from
his ancient hand,
Of life upon &
beneath, his desert sand,
Speaking in clicks &
gestures of wings,
On Kalahari winds, his
word flies & sings.
He spoke of old beasts,
now so long gone,
Telling his tales in
dance & dust-filled song,
From waving arms &
thudding feet, he told,
Stories, legends &
tales, from his Africa old.
He told of roots that
healed & magical herbs,
He spoke of secrets kept,
by beaks of birds,
Every tale a picture,
from his dancing fingers,
Leaving in minds, our lost
world that lingers.
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