Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 30,143 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

African Summer - Poem by Mark Heathcote

My heart can't fly
But it can walk high wire
In a gale-force wind
And roar like an African lion
With pride and grace, I can sing.

My heart can't lie
But it sure can cry
When I hear laughing hyenas
Chasing away my lioness
With another tribesman, like I & I

My heart has trouble picking up the pieces
Of ten thousand warring nations
And healing the spirit of loves
Broken, olive branch those reverberations.

My heart is a prisoner of true unremembered feelings
My heart is a spear-tip of all man's blood raged killings
My heart is the fibre the hemp that binds this world
In orbit around you girl…

Oh, women, your love is the substance of mankind
Oh, women do I make you feel full inside
Because it's an African summer, outside
And girl, there's nowhere to hide
From this gravity the desire you are making me feel inside.

Because it's an African summer, inside
Oh, and heat-waves of passion rise
Oh, gravity won't be pushed back by desires tides
But it isn't gonna be that long before
I'm once more again, tranquillized
Sunstroke hypnotized... as these heat-waves of passion rise.

12.07/2000 edited 28/01/2016

Topic(s) of this poem: song

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 28, 2016

Poem Edited: Monday, July 24, 2017

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