Africa

I am an African She asked me what Africa was all about I told her that there were cornfields As far as the eye could see There were rivers and gullies Wild fruit growing on trees everywhere People going about their business Market squares, stores and such Schools and churches Roads that lead everywhere I told her that there were souls Treading on mother earth Seeking their pound of flesh Like everyone else Rich souls, poor souls Dirt poor souls And everything in between She asked me if she’d live ‘good’ in Africa I told her living ‘good’ was the result Of hard work and sacrifice So, if she worked hard, her cup would be full She asked me to paint a picture of Africa So she could visualize it I put so many bright colours in the picture I painted a bright yellow Sun that never set I drew pictures of people Who smiled in spite of their hardships People who held onto hope When their lives seemed doomed People who would share In spite of their penury I described the sounds of Africa The music, the natural African rhythm That made the whole of Africa Beat with one heart On hearing this, she was awestruck She is now an African