We are invited to attend an event at Seashells of the Sun on Saturday night. Well feathers of the trees are thatched in a million reflections of the wind at entrance. Frames of curiosity are beholders of palms gateway called eyebrows. Will I be ready to chop different designs of faces by smiling gestures of greeting aches of ignorance? Maybe a Detective of the verdict called Saturday's pillowcase to address fury of its overjoyed Tastebuds. Now is my turn to be Master of Ceremonies at your whistling confusion, listening to tones of my logic, as it may be the best prescription. © Nkadimeng Welcome (Also known as Love Pharmacist, The Poet)
Jane Furse, Limpopo, South Africa
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