Sunday Evening Braai

In the nightfall shine of Sunday eve,

Under the sky's delicate weave,

A fire snaps, moving brilliant,

As stars sparkle in the evening.

On the barbecue, the meat sizzles hot,

Its fragrance, an exquisite bunch,

We assemble 'round, companions and family,

To share stories, giggle, and smile.

Each cut of meat, a story to tell,

Of excursions taken, recollections abide,

Marinated in flavors rich,

Each nibble an exquisite, delicate pitch.

The flares murmur mysteries old,

Of warmth and love, stories untold,

As smoke rises, twirling high,

Conveying conjures up to the sky.

With each flip, each turn,

We watch the meat as it perceives,

The fire's kiss, the ideal singe,

Making flavors quite dear.

At this time, time stops,

As we share tonight's rush,

Underneath the stars, we discover a lasting sense of reconciliation,

In the organization of affection, our spirits discharge.

So let us appreciate this experience fabulous,

As we accumulate 'round the braai stand,

For in the sparkle of Sunday night,

We track down satisfaction, in shared amuse.