Aminath Neena

Veteran Poet - 1,313 Points (Male')

Brave Heart - Poem by Aminath Neena

She saw him,
The nimble toddy man,
“Brave heart”
They called him
He was the champion of the tribe

Oh! He was the brewer
of the greatest dream
approaching as a light beam
In the midnight sky

And in front of her,
he stopped for a while
Lovingly watching the poised Venus
waving to him from beneath
the murky Sirius
with her delicately framed emerald coils
nourished by the succulent soils
Upon which martyrs and heroes

Stamped their footsteps
Dipped in sacred blood
that prevailed over generations

Ever faithful, ever loving
she gestated humming
a melodious aubade
when he started mounting her
gliding higher and higher

and together, she and he
they swayed with the turbulent breeze
Unaware of the tribal creed
Unaccustomed to the extent of viciousness
of them lot, the ruthless breed

with conflict and greed
and grievances untamed
of a history sustained
In jigsaw puzzles
and noble as he was,
Brave heart, he forgave them all
every single one of them foes

So, with his heart
Murmuring Kosher tales
of once upon a prosperous homeland
He, the noble cavalry man
Worked on the meticulous details

of wrapping her curls tight
Before the first streak of daylight
of every single morn

to collect the sweet brew
For which, the conch they blew

to nourish his people
the old, the weary, the homeless,
the child and the aimless
friend or foe no matter
though he could hear the chatter
of the ruthless ungrateful fodder

at the battle of the warlord
for which some were paid in gold

Light as a feather
he kept working on her curls
with silent gratitude
and his teardrops glistened
while tying and untying
the loosened braids

when lips touching his ear
softly, she whispered,

‘Tell me your dreams'

And way down below the turf
that fateful dawn
he could see the bronzed silver dwarf
of the squadron march
aiming straight at his heart
He blinked and the toddy fell apart

all hell broke loose
when his head fit the noose

And that day in the island

with her braids loose once again
the coconut palm, she wept
yearning for his nimble touch again
wanting for her champion to rise
craving for liberty
and with each teardrop that she shed
the soil beneath her trembled
and bled

Topic(s) of this poem: hero, heroes

Form: Ars Poetica

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 16, 2015

Poem Edited: Monday, March 16, 2015

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