Digging in the mud, deluxe pie galore
Cocking our pellet gun, rice birds no more
Sitting by the screens, watching storms move in
Far and wide not seen, heavy rains are pourin'
Swingin’ our hammock, the scent of the storm
Sweet wafts of wet dirt, an enjoyed summer norm
Listening to insects, ‘squitos buzzing sound
dripping humidity, a sauna all around
This was our home, our home in Africa
Shooting nasty snakes, no time to see their kind
Seven and then eight shots as we're shooting blind
Hot summer days and lazy afternoons
Reading books and playin’ off-tuned tunes
Turn the generator on, we need to beat the eggs
Laundry's all been done we pinned ‘em up with pegs
How oft' the rains returned to sun-baked land
We prayed and we received by His mighty hand
This was our home, our home in Africa
Down to market - Monday's come 'round
Peanut butter by the glop, oh the pleasant sound
Our hair, our skin, so different to see
We became the newest novelty
William Mahe, dust and broom came he
Cleaning dishes, sweeping floors, a smile for even me
Our friend, he's gone ahead
He is alive, he is not dead
This was our home, our home in Africa
We washed our hair - water off the tin
Traveled o'er muddy passages where we have been
Oh, the ocean, the breeze, we cannot forget
The smell of salt, the burning sand as yet
With palm trees swaying in the breeze
And peddlers selling carvings by the seas
Out to the reef as tides are low
Beware the urchins; to the feet they go
This was our home, our home in Africa
Treasures, my sisters as semesters loom
Commissary is open, time for a treat
Orangina would help to ward off this heavy heat
Never alone, but alone at times
Careful we are to not transgress the lines
This was our home, our home in Africa
Cocking our pellet gun, rice birds no more
Sitting by the screens, watching storms move in
Far and wide not seen, heavy rains are pourin'
Swingin’ our hammock, the scent of the storm
Sweet wafts of wet dirt, an enjoyed summer norm
Listening to insects, ‘squitos buzzing sound
dripping humidity, a sauna all around
This was our home, our home in Africa
Shooting nasty snakes, no time to see their kind
Seven and then eight shots as we're shooting blind
Hot summer days and lazy afternoons
Reading books and playin’ off-tuned tunes
Turn the generator on, we need to beat the eggs
Laundry's all been done we pinned ‘em up with pegs
How oft' the rains returned to sun-baked land
We prayed and we received by His mighty hand
This was our home, our home in Africa
Down to market - Monday's come 'round
Peanut butter by the glop, oh the pleasant sound
Our hair, our skin, so different to see
We became the newest novelty
William Mahe, dust and broom came he
Cleaning dishes, sweeping floors, a smile for even me
Our friend, he's gone ahead
He is alive, he is not dead
This was our home, our home in Africa
We washed our hair - water off the tin
Traveled o'er muddy passages where we have been
Oh, the ocean, the breeze, we cannot forget
The smell of salt, the burning sand as yet
With palm trees swaying in the breeze
And peddlers selling carvings by the seas
Out to the reef as tides are low
Beware the urchins; to the feet they go
This was our home, our home in Africa
Treasures, my sisters as semesters loom
Commissary is open, time for a treat
Orangina would help to ward off this heavy heat
Never alone, but alone at times
Careful we are to not transgress the lines
This was our home, our home in Africa
Many an airplane, paper bag in hand
Singing beyond the noise ‘til we land
Flying o’re the jungle, elephants out there?
A grassy landing, land with care
We made it again, home for the time,
Christmas is here, a treasure sublime,
Silly Goose Lady, you’ve done it again
Boxed up wonders, your heart you send
This was our home, our home in Africa
Off to the village, the meeting will start
Stumps for our seats, singing our part
“Halla chanya benya” rings true
What does it mean? “How do you do?”
Rhythm of shakers, drums, how they sing
Opposites sides the traditional thing
Oh, how I wish I knew the shakers to use
Instead I just tap my old tennis shoes
This was our home, our home in Africa
Watching live bugs, in mouth and on string
Soon we will eat, be it that squirmy thing?
The chicken’s been caught, de-feathering is done
Or would it bony, bush rat or snake to come?
Our eyes burn with tears, the pepper it lingers
When we get home - to ice cream, licked fingers
Tomorrow or the next we’ll celebrate Jesus’ birth
From heaven, Savior God, came He to earth
This was our home, our home in Africa
We cannot imagine life without “home”
So privileged we were, the world to roam
Mr Coley and Ma Jena, so true to us all
Africa, Greece, Israel, Egypt we saw
Tromping the jungle new species to find
Each plant brought home, a variant kind
Did we actually swing from the vines?
Who would believe our crazy, magnificent times
this was our home, our home in Africa
It matters not how our lives have changed
Experiences differently arranged
Jesus showed himself in that land
Over jungle, monkey bridges and sands
He gave us so many memories and treats
To think on, to learn from, to hold ‘til we meet
Telling thoughts, kindness won
You are a treasure to me never gone
My sisters ... this was our home, our home in Africa
oh my wow. you are really an amazing person!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad I chose you as my co-author... for you might sell some books someday :)
pleasure to hear your voice for a millisecond today before war broke out.
even more delightful to read this.
amy