What’s A Stoep?

I use this South African word a lot – so just in case you don’t know what it means….


It’s like a porch, or veranda,
Or even a large balcony too,
An outside place to sit,
And take in the view,
It could be in town,
Maybe out on a farm
Either way stoep sitting
Has its own special charm.

A place to chill out,
A place to contemplate,
To drink coffee or tea
And to ponder life’s fate.
It’s a place to drink wine
With friends who have gathered,
Or to sit and snooze
When you just can’t be bothered.

To quietly read a book,
When you’re in the mood,
Or to savour a plate
Of your favourite food.
It’s where gossip is updated
And opinions expressed,
And sunsets are watched
As the day’s put to rest.

It’s where the Stoep Sitting Union
Like to hang out,
Their favourite spot
Of that there’s no doubt!tootg-copyright-2016-2017


Five minutes, just five minutes, …that’s all I wanted.
Is it asking too much?


The fly found me
As on my sunbed I rested,
Buzzing about my head,
My short fuse sorely tested.
Why flies? Why me?
Aren’t there other attractions?
All I wanted was five minutes
Without any distractions.

From my head to my arm,
From my arm to my knee,
This fly had decided
It rather liked me.
If its aim was to annoy
It was certainly succeeding,
All I wanted was five minutes
With the book I was reading.

I brushed it away,
But it still persisted,
And my very best swearing
It completely resisted.
At every new invasion
I felt its tingling touch,
Trying to bite or infect me?
It was all getting too much.

So I closed my chapter,
The plot would have to wait,
That annoying, buzzing fly
Had now sealed its fate,
And with the book I’d been reading
I now tried to swat it,
And after my five minutes of time
I finally got it.

TPOTG Copyright 2016-2019