Meals that I remember

At Camps bay the wind is blowing
and the waves leap and thrust
against the jetty,
where my eyes
roam over the big boats.

There’s a restaurant
that fries snook on the coals
and serve it with lemon slices.

My mouth still waters
when I think of Henk and Frikkie
each preparing a pot on the grill
and the aroma that makes
everyone much more hungry.

When I was ill on my birthday
and I and Lood fried stake and sausage
and I later ate it at work,
I knew how nice the food
from a braai really is.

Every meal that you prepare so deliciously,
surprises me with the things that you add
and I am like a king
when you are with me.

[Reference: Braai =>a Barbecue done in the South African way. Pot=>potjiekos. Something like a pot roasted stew. It’s prepared in a pot on a wood fire.]

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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