By Jason Norwood-Young
With apologies to William Blake
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
Near to Delmas, on the right,
What infrared hand or eye
Could track thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant mealies or field
What copse of bluegums dost thou shield?
Why did you leave your bakkie and leap?
Did you see a chicken, or sheep?
“If only I had put on a leash,”
Rose Fernandes does now beseech.
With all in Springs now carrying chicken,
Lest they become a Tiger victim.
Could Simon Geer not find thee?
Even though he works for 50/50?
Panjo, Panjo, burning bright
In the East Rand, late at night
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
Jason Norwood-Young is the technical manager at the M&G Online
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