I Am Limpopian Poem by Paris Thulare

The sunshines are throbing from the fresh breeze of morning spheres,
Deep from mesh and flei of smashy Drankenberg mountainous slopes.

Look down there! when I'm here at the heart of a place called home, with greetings by the corigated inventions of my fore ones.
In this place this! I see no sorrows, nor sorries but stories that brought the sons and daughters like you and me to the aldulthood.
Such shrubs you see, if they had mouths they would tell the tales on how our culture is respected like in the movie Troy.
Oh look! Look at those skies,
So innocent, free from weatherly monsters like hydras and clouds of colunimbustratus.
Allow me to leave you with such smashy ones: 'My place Home is smashy most extraterrestrial