A Forlorn Mother

I took a walk on a lonely pathway
By the corner stood a massive anthill
Termites covered it in frenzy movement
I looked through the cassava stems below
There lied a long and lifeless creature
Crunched into by a nest of warrior ants
After it had swallowed a little boy
Left to play by the mother, while weeding
In the farm adjourning the river bank
Given her by late grandfather, dearly loved

Hear the wailing of an only daughter
The crying of one whose son went missing
Neighbors came to console and pray with her
Help rescue the child from calamity
With portrayals of what they thought took place
It was a ritual killing, some whispered
That grandpa took the child for a ransom
Yet no one dared venture beyond the farm
Not to the lonely pathway and massive anthill
Till stench of decay polluted the air

About This Poem

Review Request Direction: What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: NGA

Favorite Poets: Inspired by an article in an old manuscript , It reads:, AXIOMS OF PERFECTION, In the physical order – In the realization of the dream of beauty, In the moral order – In the realization of the dream of love, In the intellectual order – In the realization of dream of poetry, In the spiritual order – In the realization of the dream of the mystics

Comments

Ian.T

12 years 7 months ago

Iboro

This piece is a good write of something that happened, but it needs to be made into a poem or piece for learning or to celebrate the little life, or just to remember the boys life, bringing in the message of what, or what not to do.
Many will not understand that little body in the termite heap hidden by whatever or whoever or what the termites will do to things that have died.
I lived in Africa for many years and one place we lived had an Acacia tree in the garden, day after day more of it was disapearing under a covering of brown dry mud, the termites were claiming it as theirs..
Keep writing, Yours Ian.T

t. reflexion

12 years 7 months ago

Thank you

I will take time to work on it and see if poetry can come out of it. Thank you and best wishes.

themoonman

12 years 7 months ago

hi t,

I liked the poem but it left me with questions, what
ate the boy, was it the ants or something else that
was then eaten by the ants? I think some clarity there
will help the reader to understand.

In the first stanza the grandfather is referred to as, late
and dearly loved. That to me means, departed. But then
in the second stanza there are whispers that grandpa may
have taken the child for ransom, leaves me with more
questions, same grandfather or perhaps another one,
not clear.

A sad story for sure, no one wants to find their child like
that, strong content and with a bit more clarity could improve
this piece immeasurably.

Richard

t. reflexion

12 years 7 months ago

Hi Richard,

Thank you very much for these observations.

A pyton swallowed the child then moved close to the ant hill to rest, when the termites came out the snake couldn't run away, the weight of the child made it difficult. The hunter became the hunted.

Quite frankly, a reader here will not query the second reference to grandpa, understandably, ghosts as people here believe, come back to do one or two things in the physical world and in the opinion of the one that wispered, it was grandpa's ghost.

Best wishes
tr