Kalahari Weavers Poem by Frank Bana

The weaver birds build homes together
Great thatch domes
They enter and leave
Circling in their thousands
Nests embracing great thorn trees
And no wisp or stalk is wasted

The weaver birds build commune homes
That stately sway in the breeze of dawn
Freezing under the midday blaze
Defiant in the cruellest evening storm

Tireless desert artisans
Peerless design skills
Resolved to live together by
Savannah stripped bare of life
And grasses of which few survive

If I had a week, a shade
And water-bottle filled
I would stay to watch them build.