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Apr 2017
In my herb garden
Perfumes a shroud of
Dilly dalliance
From the brilliant baker above
In (African) time
My garden blossoms
And I question why
You believe my garden
Is no place for herbs?
Why when my soil reclines
Dotted, lined, smothered
with little fragrant plants?
Do not suppose your
Sickly green monsters superior
To my spiced golden samples
They have their own
And may the proud song of my people
flourish in flowery fullness
As you allege your herb garden does.
This is a response to another poem entitled 'The Herb Garden' in which the writer makes a distinction between some virtues of England and the comparative harshness of my homeland. My poem counters by asserting that South Africa has its own virtues, which are different and not inferior.
Written by
Lauren  F/South Africa
(F/South Africa)   
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