Four Seasons Before Lunch Gauteng (Pretoria)

 I have lived in Pretoria for half my life, but even at almost 50, l still am not ready for mornings like this . I step out of  home in the morning at 7 a.m., greeted by a warm, gentle breeze and sunshine so golden it felt like summer had arrived overnight. The sky was clear; the jacaranda trees glowed purple; the air smelled of warmth and possibility. “Perfect day,” l muttered, locking his door. By the time l drive out—five minutes later—the sky starts to be darkened. A cold wind came crawling in from nowhere, sweeping dust across the pavement. The temperature dropped so suddenly that  l have  to switch the heater for warmth. Laughing. “Ah, Pretoria… you never disappoint.” Halfway to the office, the heavens opened. Not soft rain— a storm . Sheets of water hammered the road, street gutters overflowed instantly, and distant thunder rolled like a grumpy giant waking up too early. People scattered, hiding under bus shelters already too full.  “Ten minutes ago...

AT LONG LAST

I love you with all my heart
Wishes are crippling my mind
My soul wants the best for you
For you bring light into my life
You bring happiness
Your presents always give me comfort
During tough times and times of joy.
I have adopted myself to you
And God has always filled my cup with water.
Enhancing a flourishing way of life
Whose graph is always at the pinnacle?
The top most, we cherished.
Time and time has passed,
The dry North Westerly winds has blown through
With its inland temperatures, dry without moisture.
Engulfing the whole surrounding
Leaving my cup dry, I felt like am in a desert.
Totally dry with nowhere to seek refuge.
The wind has gone with all l had
Leaving me in the darkness, no love, no happiness
Nor the comfort I use to enjoy.
Deep inside my heart l am burning, l pray to God
For they say his will shall prevail and in him my cup will be filled again.
Hello my love, hello my darling hello hello hello………………..
I wish if the wind could  blow and have not blown with you.
For its destiny we don’t know.


Far beyond my reach, the trumpets may be blown
Drums beaten and may not reach your ears.
Day and night l pray oh Lord may you fill my cup, my cup, my cup……………
I believe one day the south easterly winds will blow
Filled with moist oceanic currencies. Filling my cup?
Bringing back my love, my happiness and everything in it.
The light from the darkness
That glows and shine like the sun
Sunshine?
In God l trust.


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