Poem - Memories of Africa

Memories of Africa

Amazing! I glance at a much loved object and the veil

of the years disappears like smoke wafted away

by the winds of time and that old brass bell

fashioned by craftsmen in Africa long years ago

is being sold to me by an itinerant Indian man bright eyed and

attentive. I pay I smile I say goodbye and now it is 30 years later.

On the old oak sideboard marked by the patina of time

 rests a pair of Indian brass slippers ---Mombasa floods back now

exotic fragrance, spices of Zanzibar fill my nostrils -- A romantic

moment, she turns to me, big eyes wide open tell me to buy, so I

exchange a slipper for a kiss.

Forty years ago and she still looks fabulous.

A collection, a miniature brass bucket, a tiny pair of brass

candlesticks and a miniature brass kettle grouped together,

a look of old gold caught our eye when we wandered into a tiny shop,

Simonstown where the Navy gathers in big bay at the Cape, a

Souvenir we told ourselves, anyway the sales lady was lovely, forty 
five years later we still remember her smile.

A hard wood bowl and lid--- Our tourist trip around the Eastern

 Transvaal, the Game Reserve, Long Tom Pass, Grassmere, Bridal Veil 
Falls, we saw them all. We meandered past forested mountains and

old gold diggings, where ghosts still dig for the elusive treasure and

the winter wind howl through the abandoned mines until we 
reached Pilgrims Rest where a huge shop devoted to Souvenirs 
found this Pillbox of wood, we have used these many years.

 by Hillie Feldman  July 1996