Ode to A Day in the African Bush - By N Lockwood

The sun starts to rise casting shadows across the vast lands.
Baobab trees rise above the morning mist greeting the first rays of light.
Nearby nocturnal beasts, tired from hunting, find a place of rest, while others are only waking, still alive – a success.
Laying on a bed, canvas the only divider, between wandering animals, wild and free;
Sounds of hippos waking ring out from the river, grunting galore, and monkeys’ soft footsteps pat as they jump around.
Under an awning of acacias, encountering inquisitive giraffe and kudu at breakfast, once more,
Birds dart back and forth, and gazelles pronk playfully, excited for the day ahead.
Oh, Africa, you ignited my soul, and the flames brightly burn.
My heart longs to return, to feel the warmth of your sunburnt skies on my skin and;
Squish the laterite earth, enriched red, between my toes.
I hear its call, it calls to me, like a silent drum beating, so too does the heart of Africa beat.
The wheels of the khaki land rover turn, and a delightful petrichor drifts up off the dust.
Bouncing along the rust coloured bush road, the smells plentiful and oh so varied,
It seemed so out of place, freshly buttered popcorn, in the middle of nowhere.
But its leopard’s business, taken seriously, a solitary creature marking his territory, 
Stalking undetected, from the branches of trees, he drops to the ground and, the rough pad of his paw falls silent;
Big tuskers, snap branches as they tramp nearby, at ease; prickly pear cacti turning urine magenta, a sight to be seen, one cannot believe;
A flock of carmine bee-eaters flutter in a pink haze; dazzles of zebra contrast across the velt.
With a wonderful plethora of disturbances to my senses, you never cease to fail,
But it is your beauteous lands, so diverse, that has me wanting to return always.
Open bush velt with blades of golden grass, like heaven droplets, hiding the almighty, slumbering royal beasts;
Your vast burnt savannahs without a shred of humanity, nor shade to hide beneath;
In canoe, dodging hippos on the Zambezi, is an art form to prevent becoming a feast;
With plentiful oases, a submerged giant from the Nile bears the deadliest teeth.

The excitement of an adventure unknown at the dawning of a new day,
Detours cannot be planned, be it chased by a tusk, or witness to a miracle.
I wouldn’t want to change you, not even the slightest, not one bit,
You’re not perfect in entirety, but marvellously imperfect by my own eyes.
At the end of a long day, the sun sets behind the end of what looks like forever; 
Amethyst skies cast final silhouettes across the lands, painting the whole bush scene.
Nocturnal beasts wake, from place of rest during the days heat.
Lions chuff and roar, as prides starts to move;
Hyenas, a most clever predator, prowls with an eerie whoop; 
Honking hippos make their way from river to land; and loud rattles ring out as honey badgers creep around;
The unmistakable sound of a crying baby, cries out from the pint-sized bush baby with oversized eyes, hiding in the trees.
Lingering danger awaits if you wander alone in the bush at night, animals and humans alike.
But your splendour is too great, to be missed, a sacrifice of home comforts, worth all the fuss.
Never will you have experienced such a glorious night out, by a crackling fire, listening to Masai tell tales of legends and culture, some their fathers told.
Laying my head down on a new bed, no canvas surrounding, just an endless blanket of stars 
overhead.
Sighing a deep breathe, and dreams on the cusp, your drums are heard, a melodic lullaby, and my heart calls backs, I cannot resist.
Unspoilt lands with endless possibilities, untamed and unparallel, all doubts are cast aside, 
Africa feels like home.
And here, with red dirt beneath me, animals around me, stars and trees above me, it will be here, where I take my last breath.
This is the final place I will lay my head to rest.