Monday, 7 January 2013


With one sweep
With one strike
With one step he raised dust
Glistening in the sun
Muscles flexing
Causing ripples as his toned abdomen sways
All man!
All handsomeness
The crowd cheers
He perspires
Sweat dripping from his dusty skin
His loincloth flips and sways
The young maidens blush
The male folk watch in admiration
He knew he had won their hearts
The beat of the talking drum intensified
His body produces more adrenaline
The sweat from his eyebrows blinded his determined eyes
This was the dance for a trophy
He was now the last man standing in the contest
He knew he was the next Village Dancer
He was going to be famous and rich
And he was ready for it all

By Sylvia Chika

© SylviaChika 2013
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