East Africa
Lands of bounty, yet also so barren
red soil so pungent and full of life
if the monsoon's rains don't fall
a veritable dust bowl you become
great herds teem over your plains
constantly moving following the rains
behind them a land picked clean
only a few tender shoots showing
withering and dying in the midday heat
only to be saved by a short down pour
sleek well fed pride of lions roam
soon their time of plenty over
unlike the herds they stay waiting
for the next herd of animals to come
the giant crocs in the river now well fed
it could be a year before they feast again
all this and so much more means, spellbound
I reflect on African shores that hold close my heart
with love and even tenderness for this great land
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