In The Wind (R) Poem by Margaret Alice Second

This violet - that is me, is wilted completely - air-con
water-pump sent in for repairs - the only way to cool
down is to douse ice-water over my head destroying
my attempt at sporting my hair in frontal bouffant - it
leaves me dishevelled; have to keep cool to prevent
my brain catching fire from heat’s accompaniment in
soup and weak coffee, it does not make sense that
discomfort is unbearable - & when it’s over

We have nothing to show for it - in my case, a sadly
disfigured Adobe Acrobat Pro text’s all I have to meet
the Auditors who examine our technical jargon as we
relay Dutch written by cool, scrimping & saving Dutch
businessmen whose practices have no relevance in
the dry desert heat of Africa where rain stays away &
every line in Afrikaans Hymns repeats the request to
please send rain as we are worshipful and humble

Need to eat - the same dark characters who happily
suppressed ALL other races regardless of colour to
become top dog - with the audacity to be chagrined
that NOBODY appreciated their excellence as it had
no Wisdom and Love in its principles; today the old
structures are destroyed by African peoples bent on
doing their own thing, ignore America, put their faith
China and Russia - countries never known for their

Altruism, yet reviving Communism with a happy smile
is all the inefficient ANC leaders wish to accomplish at
the cost of destroying the country they inherited from
colonial masters governing without love; ANC heads
withhold everything from all except themselves, their
cronies & minions, content education’s non-existent &
announcing destruction of schools & universities still
functioning - goodness gracious, I’m turned political

Commentator and violets are only supposed to wave
in the wind….