Bushveld Campfire Poem by Diana van den Berg

As she gazed,
pensively,
into the storybook
of the leaping flames,
she was oblivious
to the hum of conversation
around her,
her hands clasped lightly around her knees,
where, in her element,
she sat on the dew-damp grass,
and,
like the warmth
that was pervading her bones,
as homemade soup
on a cold, cold night,

though nobody noticed,
an enigmatic smile,
slowly, oh so slowly,
crept over her face,
and the firelight
flickered more brightly
in her eyes,
and,
she nodded serenely -
satisfied that
her question
had been answered
favourably and truthfully
and yes, she would keep her promise
until the stars fell as rain
and the sun and the moon
changed places.

(17 June 2011)