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I Dream of Africa
Some time ago I left my home,
far away in the African sun.
I boarded a plane for a foreign land,
my new life had begun.
But still some nights as I drift away,
I hear a cricket's call.
My mind wanders off to another place.
to Acacia trees, proud and tall.
I dream of my home in Africa.
Of a place so wild and free.
I remember well my garden,
in the shade of the giant fig tree.
It's not that I regret my new life,
or wish to be somewhere else.
It's just that I dream of Africa,
of a wild and untamed place.
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by Jayne Scott
I Dream of Africa
Some time ago I left my home,
far away in the African sun.
I boarded a plane for a foreign land,
my new life
by Kat Apf
I want to go home.
I long to go to
the Metropolitan
Museum of Art
and stand in one
of the period rooms
and pretend to be
someone
"Where All This Started"
Memories start here:
No sun light, always shadow,
always the weeds
standing and listening and watching,
I Can No Longer Taste the Sea
I can no longer taste the sea.
It has ceased to seduce me
In whispered tones of saltiness.
Nor
The 1930's - "Those Were the Days"
Burns and Allen on the CBS Sunday night radio show,
percolator on wood stove with flames'
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Poetry: Nostalgia
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