MELITA
Her chin lifted on the praise, even if wasn’t really deserved – just keen and clean repetition. But she enameled and lacquered it to her mind, something to be remembered, recalled, for any later purposes. She could always deal with more practice, more precision, not only in weaponry, but in conversation pieces, foreign languages as well. She shouldn’t always have to rely on her staff, her bow, or her brashness. At the next, she smiled, absorbing the hoe gaan dit as how are you – practicing the following statement in airy, ethereal tones. “Ek vaar goed en jy?”. Her laughter, bright and cheery, clambered and curled, and they continued in the elocution, in the refinery of the shared dialects, until the sun pressed down into darkness, encouraging them to maneuver elsewhere – newfound companions at beck and call too.Finished!
This is a gift, it comes with a price
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Midas is king and he holds me so tight
And turns me to gold in the sunlight
