Oft a time we speak of beauty,
Oft a time we dream of it,
Playing mindly games of make believe,
That never yield true satisfaction,
Prayers and hopes and fantasies,
That never become realities.

All our lives we seek it out,
In the things and people we love,
All our lives wasting time;
And oft we cannot help but cry,
When it eludes us with each passing day,
When death seems near and it- so far away.

For though so many are graced with beauty,
So very few have beauty with grace,
That beauty of angels without wings,
Which lives in myths and fairy tales,
well now I know it's as real as it seems,
And it's ever more beautiful than our fantasied dreams.

Yes I've seen and felt it- believe me I have,
It's there if you look- in the league of the beautiful,
It's more exciting than anything you've ever imagined,
The league of laughter and unending smiles,
Of compassion, of understanding, of total truth,
Where reigns in hearts eternal youth.

And only in such hearts will you find,
Not sighs, not whispers, but screams of joy.
Not droplets, not puddles, bur oceans of love,
A whole new way of human interaction,
The greatest of all things that we have been given,
It's serene, it's calm, it's so close to heaven.

© Fungai James Tichawangana
University Of Zimbabwe, G57 NC5
Saturday 27 April 1996
1716hrs