

we often roam for miles around
in this land of bush and game;
grasses waving, dust exploding…
a landscape far from tame
sweet scents rise and pungent odours
betray the teeming life,
dangers stalk a peaceful grazer…
chaos reigns and death is rife
sunsets glow in rich display
of colours rainbow clear,
and stillness falls, expectancy –
as night-time curdles fear
from north to south thro’ hill and dale
from Mopani bush to plain,
from tree and pitted river-bed,
it’s a land we like to claim
primeval, vast and varied,
steeped in our very bone,
it holds its children fast and fierce,
its breast our blood, our home