Nostalgia

I remember the crisp mornings,
Out on  the veranda, 
Watching the gentle colours of the dawn,
Overlooking the steady Ngezi river,
A breathtaking site.
The dew still beaded on the blades of grass. 
The morning air filling my nostrils with the fragrance of nostalgia. 
The faint smell of smoke invading the freshness of the morning,
But adding a scent of familiarity. 
The constant thud of iron against rock in the distance,
The beating heart of this land,
Revealing the riches embedded in its earth.
I recall the comfort of choruses in vernacular,
Echoing from the chapel on the hill.
Here I found my Firstlove,
Joy permeated through the land,
Into barren hearts that desperately lay in wait to be filled.
This was the conception of my purpose,
My heart's contentment.
The birthplace of my children,
Where they experienced a life of barefoot freedom.
Days were filled with gratitude for blessings,
The sunshine the expression of hope expected.
As days reached their end ,
And twilight approached,
The evening symphony of crickets chirping and croaking of frogs
Ushered in the night .
The darkness overshadowing
Mopane covered hills,
As foreboding events drew near.
The night was a shelter for hidden secrets,
The release of inhibitions consumated deadly desire.
Pleasures were fulfilled,
Consequences  went unacknowledged.
Deep sorrows were sewn in the drunkenness of night.
Darkness faded but left its guilty stain.
At first light came the hope of the sobering sun,
It was a chance for a new beginning, 
A time to move on.
To leave with the memories imprinted on my heart.
Treasures of joy I carried with me,
Experiences of pain were necessary for growth.
No longer do I grieve for the life which once was,
It remains cherished without regret.
The place where I loved and lost,
The place that I called my home.