Dusk Poem by Frank Ian Bowen

Ranks of cloud clothe hilltop’s crown,
as the hot African sun slips slowly down,
with reds, orange and purple tints.
Who knows what tomorrow hints?

The dusk draws closer to me.
I feel so tranquil, I am free
of care and concern; all is now right.
I soak up the closing rays of light.

The life of the bushveld slows its pace,
The movement of grasses stop their race,
I savour the smells, the colours, the chill.
Africa! Africa! You cause such a thrill.

As the sun disappears past the hilltop I see,
I’m reminded again, what luck to be free
to enjoy nature’s bounty without restraint
To sample earth’s wonders, it’s textures and paint.