Terry Reeves Poet Prose

International Date Line

I wrote a book - young man's adventures in Africa,
it was a hoot - I could have just stayed in my home town,
once you start it, you won't be able to put it down,
maybe a more accurate title - 'Fifty Shades Of Brown.'

It was like the Klondyke - digging on every corner,
vibrant, exciting, colonial but no gun at my hip,
occasionally, sometimes, I could revert to stiff upper lip.

I did what I had to do, like a privileged envoy,
ventured into the 'sticks,' should have had a cane,
where I could have prodded sleeping boys into life again,
'I bet you think these words are about you, you're so vain.'

Why do men climb mountains - there up, rising by,
I came back, so that people would ask me, Why?

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