Ne’er, by my reasoned troth, has human soul,
Once, in Eden’s grove, most lightest and most best
Of God’s Creation, near’st to Heav’n’s purest pole,
Thus been decried, with damning words infest.
Thine insults shall I bear with patience holy,
Nor turn the other cheek with cheeky word.
The stomping, riotous bossiness of Nyathi
Shall ne’er the calm Ndlovine peace disturb.
Fear not the hot, empolitick-ed junk,
Embodied by the Tavli-maddened Buff.
Heed not the crazy claims, imaginated bunk -
The bedlam-house is common with such stuff.
Yet calmly, and with grace, fling down the glove
“I challenge thee”, with endless, patient love.
1 response so far ↓
Inyathi // March 8, 2008 at 11:19 pm |
Caffs are not all on corners
But insight has struck
And with less luck
The nub of past revealed
No love can be unpeeled
For the nature of the beast
Allows for mini-feast
To see the view
And have some stew
Whilst assertion’s tale to tell
And strike a living hell
To singe Ndlovu’s trunk
Its claims are so much junk
A call will have to do
For fishing at the zoo
OK???