CAPTAIN OF THE LIGHTHOUSE
By : Togara Muzanenhamo
The late hour trickles into morning. The cattle low profusely by the anthill
where brother and I climb and call Land’s End. We are watchmen
overlooking a sea of hazel-acacia-green, over torrents of dust whipping about
in whirlwinds and dirt tracks that reach us as firths.
We man our lighthouse – cattle as ships. We throw warning lights whenever
they come too close to our jagged shore. The anthill, the orris-earth
lighthouse, from where we hurl stones like light in every direction.
Tafara stands on its summit speaking in sea-talk, Aye-aye me lad – a ship’s a-
coming! And hurls a rock at the cow sailing in. Her beefy hulk jolts and turns.
Aye, Captain, another ship saved! I cry and furl my fingers into an air-long
telescope – searching for more vessels in the day-night.
Now they low on the anthill, stranded in the dark. Their sonorous cries haunt
through the night. Aye, methinks, me miss my brother, Captain of the
lighthouse, set sail from land’s end into the deepest seventh sea.
Monday morning at the beach
A Monday morning Sunrise at the Beach
the soft breath of the sea air,
tickles your nose.
You feel the cool morning air,
lightly brushing your cheek.
Soft Sun light
surrounds you in a welcoming hug.
The waves nip at your toes,
you can taste the ocean,
while the moon says goodbye.
Light bursts across the beach,
the sky brightens in a joyful smile.
The clouds disappear,
as the sun dances across the waves.
Its the weekend so, why not find a coast-line to walk along, Locate a beach and stop for a while to take in the views.