In the old green country
The artist painted beauty
The river in a flow of orange
A blue-grey backdrop
The rolling Drakensburg mountain range
A mosaic of nine shades
With eleven distinct tones
Under the cool shade of a willow
He painted a future brighter than a rainbow
From the Limpopo to the Cape
Along a scenic landscape
Breathtaking like a masterstroke
On the symbolic antelope
He painted the tip of Africa’s hope
On the wall of shame
The paint diluted in blame
When the days were the colour purple
And yellow the courage of the people
In the hall of hatred
With concentrated effort
Political will his paintbrush
Time his canvas
He painted his timeless masterpiece
He revealed a love camouflaged
A fine work of art archived in our flesh
Through the blue hues we admired
In the brown of our eyes we revered
We worshiped in the black of our skin
And repented in the white of our sin
When colour was the enemy within
He painted over the pain we’ve seen
Colour blind is the grey of our mind
Colourless is the soul we hide
Colourful is the same red we bleed
Coloured is the love we breed
He painted with the warm colours of the Indian
And the boldness of the Mediterranean
He painted the Karoo with his resilient character
And painted the Table mountain decor
He painted with the screams of his torture
The vision in his writings we lecture
He painted as he marched through ‘The Dunes of June’
He’s still painting and his masterpiece is not done