To the Lizard: An Ode
On the wall in my backyard, In the shade of the tall tree in flower Round and round the trunk, up and down A she-lizard dances with her mate. My heart rolled back the years Till I stood by the crags in childhood Wide-eyed with a taut catapult in hand A roughly round pebble held ready to fly As we circled the rocks in the noon sun. Read: Village Boy Impressions - The Baobab Tree Agama, what a good sport! Swift, spirited and agile Just as good at swerving as Breaking suddenly in flight. Quite a wonder and a challenge to us. But so also were we, the little cats Nimble of foot and deft with our shots. Driven by our little rumbling tummies; The constant nagging companions of our boyhood. Read: Village Boy Impressions - A Tribute to Hunger Our favourite was always the landlord Blue-grey body, and yellow tail Red or orange head, so cocky Mocking us from your elevated post On the crags, roofs, high walls or tree branches, Defying our flying stones and curses.