My African Fantasy

The freshly showered lady,

Waiting for her lover to return

And their intimacy to resume.

As he enters,

She awaits behind the door,

Just to catch a glimpse of his nightly ritual,

Of him, the man she loves:

He falls onto the couch,

Loosening his tie

In that same rhythmic way

Left to right and back again;

Then she follows his glance,

Knowing that he’s eyeing the ashtray,

Looking for that special part of the day,

When peace begins,

And the sun sets.

 

As familiarity resumes,

Their unison is witnessed

By the wildest of beasts: the lions!

His foreign accent,

Floating through the branches of the whispering trees,

Telling tales of warriors

And unforgotten love,

Myths of Kings and Goddesses;

All this,

Retorting the birds’ calls.

 

The envious lioness,

Searching for her prey,

In hope of a taste of the rush,

As are the two lovers on the deck.

As harmony is reached,

The African night appears,

Clear and mysterious,

Noises unknown, unwanted,

For sleep and calm takeover,

The evening’s run.