Saturday, 24 May 2014

To Karisparau, And Back

To Karisaparau, And Back

A team of just three
Set off in the rain
To reach Karisparau
And reach back again.

Stumbled over trees
That fell in their way,
Went up to their knees
In mud, sand and clay,

Treaded carefully on
Moss covered logs,
Marched up the steep hills,
Trudged through the bogs,

Ducked under branches,
Slashed through the vines,
Walked on the big road,
And old narrow lines.

A trio of times
They stopped, as if dead-
A snake for each man
Directly ahead.

One brown, one red,
The black one the longest,
All slithered like spirits,
Melted into the forest.

A bad omen,
The forest people say,
To meet so much evil
All in one day.

But at last they arrived
After hours of sweat.
With sunshine and grasslands
They were warmly met.

With a view to the hills,
Their hammocks were hung,
Their freshly washed clothes
Placed out in the sun.

Before they had departed
They were told to expect
Silence and emptiness which was
Completely correct;

Barely a soul passed by 
For the visitors to meet
In the so-called village centre,
Whilst they rested their tired feet.

Time passed by,
And they could not forget
That their long journey
Was not over yet
(In search of that rarity,
A spot of internet)!

Ninety minutes more
They were on the road,
Behind great green mountains,
The orange sunset glowed.

Crossing the savannah
On a dry, sandy track,
With thirst longing to be quenched
In a creek cool and black.

If it was water they wished for,
Their dreams came full true,
Once at Karisparau airstrip,
In that fateful storm blew.

A deafening roar on the 
Roof of the shop,
Whilst they sat glumly inside
And prayed it would stop.

A pack of sweet biscuits
Was all they would get,
And there was no hope now
Of that internet.

Weary and drained,
They thought of the spot,
Where before it had rained,
They had hung their hammocks.

And when the storm passed,
Into the dark night
The three men dragged
Their feet by torchlight.

Each step was a struggle-
In the soft sand they sank.
They were up to their knees,
In a creek burst its banks...

When a voice in the darkness
Like an angel in the gloom,
Called them to return
And sleep sound in a room.

Perhaps this kindess
Saved those men from the worst-
Whatever apon them,
Those three snakes had cursed,

For not long after,
Raged a second fierce storm,
But by a stranger's sympathy
They were safe, dry and warm.

And when a clear day dawned
There was toast and sweet tea,
Even the internet worked
(For one of the three).

With all the gratitude
They could find,
They paid their hosts
And made up their mind

To stretch their stiff legs,
Move their heavy bones,
Pack up their bags,
And head for their home.

Stumbled over those trees,
That lay in their way,
Tried to avoid
All that mud sand and clay,

Balanced again on those 
Moss-covered logs,
Marched down the steep hills
And trudged through more bogs,

Ducked under branches,
Slashed through the vines,
Walked on the big road
And old narrow lines.

A team of just three,
Arrived home in the rain.
They'd reached Karisparau
And reached back again.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful! Love this. It reminds me of home although Georgetown is a far way from Karisparau lol.

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