Her cheek was softly
touched by the feather & the dust,
Her tears gently mingled
with elephant’s soft wept musth,
And soft footprints
of great beasts lay gently next to hers,
Upon their cruel dying,
all beasts to her, bequeath their furs.
She breathed in deep
at night, sweet-bush-kissed breezes,
Drinking waters, where
gazelles, the long reed softly teases,
As she quietly slept,
old dreaming baobabs gave her shelter,
Her blood flowed within
her veins, as the waters of the Delta.
The Kalahari winds
whispered ancient love songs in her ear,
As Cupid dressed in
skins, preps his bow, arrows & long spear,
Aiming for her heart
& hopefully, her long & everlasting love,
But she turned her
back, following insistent calling of the dove.
At night she laid her
head, upon the bosoms of desert dunes,
Her dreams strummed
on drums, to the beating of milk moons,
Old cicadas serenading,
within her last breath warm & sighing,
Then she felt the throb
of Africa, within her soft & gentle dying.
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