Mongoose Hunt
You should have heard the steaming riot
Of the village carnival
The beating pans, the conversing griot
And the boys bright bacchanal
You do not know what relief the moment give
To a village's quiet life, the hope
For a hero's incentive to any who ends its life
What will be saved? A chicken's
Lost told by the wild hen house clucking
A batch of eggs forgotten
In the pingwing bush where they laid them,
The dogs from boredom
The girl brought away from mother's watch
In the pandemonium to meet
The boy whose body is laden with tropic heat
So much of destiny and joy
Is played out from the intentions to destroy
The mad mongoose who dared
The quiet Sunday afternoon to stroll
For food, and lambs bleat in the fold.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
