The country newly-born, we were younger still
Jacaranda blossoms paved the stone under our feet
We drank the bittersweet coffee of the Chipinge hills
By the roadside in the glow of Independence
As we explored the central park's every hidden corner
The miniature Victoria Falls, the botanical treasures
And the open-air soapstone sculpture displays
You told me tipsy tales of Mzilikazi
We rode the flying bus down to the old Zimbabwe
And walked among the peaceful ruined walls
As peacocks strolled insoucient in the gardens
We climbed the fortress to view the rolling plains
The corn was white and tall the month we married
In an improvised bare office filled with laughter
Animals graced the hills above our reception
Music drifted to the border with Botswana
We made love in the wedding suite, high above the city
Embelished by the gentle blues of Cape China
With joy I entered you as your husband
And sunrise filled our window with its glory
Today we're not so young, Zimbabwe is much older
Its splendour is revisiting its ruins
In Namibia's childhood you were lost, your sweetness
Is held only by the warm earth of Mochudi now.
For we have all been claimed by our addictions
The richest topsoil worn down into powder
Dreams of liberation have been stolen
And seasons of young love are past their flower.
A beautiful poem that tells a wonderful story of young love. Nicely done! hugs, Dee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is the sort of poem that leaves one with a thirst for more, like seeing a trailer but wanting to see the whole film....... Love, Fran xx