Kindness in waves, rippling out
From a wounded heart,
Lapped up on the shores
Of my own torn places.
A radiant glow
Lit my way so many times
Through the gate, up the stairs,
Into the sun-drenched South Africa
Of Cynthia’s living room.
Small, telling touches:
The tea ritual, the fruit plate,
The special cups and mats,
The warmed up noshes.
Time between us like gentle rain,
Always an open door
A bemused smile spread on the welcome mat.
A piece of vibrant cloth,
The flow of the Veldt,
A lover of landscapes
A singer of songs that sing still,
After the singer has moved on.