One short of eighty years today
There came a great event,
For that is when there came our way
Yours truly, mischief bent;
To end of war, and more and more
Of conflicts through the years,
Through all absurdities the score
Of writings shifted gears
Apartheid came, apartheid went,
Mandela came, and left,
With time quite greatly spent,
And leaving actions deft.
Then came the sorry cry, Oh woe!
‘Bring on the clowns!’ it was,
That this was heeded, we all know,
Of Zuma time, because.
And now, in all of politics
A muddled monkey reigns —
Or mixed gorilla that one picks —
Eggs, bacon, wors the mains.
No doubt all will be keen to pounce
On racist statement there,
Which on their own heads back will bounce,
So grumble with great care.
For xenophobia’s OK
But racism is not,
The ‘foreigners’ all have a way
To get what you’ve not got?
So every white on black complaint
Is met with awful yells,
But black on black, or black/white ain’t —
Now, what is that one tells?
That I will still be seeing
The next eighty years pass by
Is quite unlikely being,
But keep your optics dry.
It has, so far, me given
A quite amazing ride,
To go on too long livin’,
Is action to deride.
But meantime still enjoying
The simple things in life,
Food for the tum, brain buoying
From family and wife.