There is a country on the east end of SA
Not too big but worth mentioning I’d say
That opened my eyes [and captured my heart] in a most unlikely way
Swaziland’s capital was green through and through
With a painted backdrop of mountains so blue.
But on the outskirts of town
Past the bus rinks and hoopla
There rests a care point
With the name, Ntaba
Stesh sixty was the stop
Out of the cumbee’s we’d hop
To our house on the drop
Of the lush green hilltop
And over the ridge you’ll find
The care point in mind
In a building of blue
With a playground of the same hue
And there we worked
With the kids of the place
Whose names were unknown
But we cherished each face
There was pretty girl
And circle boy
Black jersey guy
And the sister that never wore pants
The names were asked
But English they did not know
And the little sa swati we learned
Made communicating quite a show
But at the guidance of Zanela
The teacher slash cook slash care-taker bella
We taught the ABCs
And numbers
And colors
And shapes
And how to draw a yellow umbrella
We sang songs
And danced dances
And taught the Lord’s prayer
But in our silly foreign way
Always held their stare
And we read to them
O did we read!
Books upon books
With each earnest plead
But this was my favorite past-time you’ll see
As reading inspired a quietter energy
I went to the bookshelves
To the masses of text
And picked up a Seuss book
Just guess what happened next
I established a perch under the playground’s precious shade
And read out loud as the children just laid
And for only several moments they behaved
No crying
Or yelling
Or talking
Or running
Could interrupt the stories so cunning
But as it would be
With kids you see
The moment would flee ever so hastily
Nevertheless
Day after day
I cherished those moments
As one would say
Reading to the kids
In an animated way
Pretty girl in my lap
Everything a-okay
So you see, that’s the thought
That even if kids weren’t what they ought
They desired a love they eagerly sought
And there we were
Allowing our hearts to be caught
