Poetry

By

Learnmore Edwin Zvada

Only Because

Only because you will know of my weeping

At a day crowning afore the breaking of my heart

Hoping that you capture my falling

With words that soothe my psychological calamity

Under the shadow you are

Silhouetted against skies and horizons

Brown eyes, brown hair, brown fields of skin I wish to caress

I have always been to you like the full moon

Stark naked sorely for the feasting of your eyes

Only because you have my heart

Doodled in a pad of thy craft

Of figures of colour, I stand

Spooned by love and yellow light

Punctuated by the dying of early twilight

Hamlet of kisses, acrobatic tenderness to breach my enclosure

Only because you are the harvest I seek

In these fields which bear the name of love

Till a perpetual day upon the seashore

Where you will arrive to me for an eternity of felicity

A Termite’s Plea

Calm be the horse with a shoe

Not of gold… neither of neatly cut diamond nor fine topaz

But dull, with an assortment of excretion and the dor that swims in dung

Be it rotten wood with a dab simple as a dot

Or aged iron moulded to agree with the curve of a heel

However variegated it may be, only softer should it remain

Sound you know of neighing that is slow

The making of a scene you observe with the air it trots

Horse shoe must it be stepping my foot?

I am a mere termite, my mother sired me in a dead wood

For longer my dream is in day as in the nightly emanation

Only in this pandemonium do I have to cower behind these shallow caverns

Under a hoof and stride spelling a death beat

Calm be the horse with a shoe

As the winds draws it close to this anthill

For I remain the authoritative entity of the savannah to name the pullulating anthills

Of my spit and sweat and pains is the sprouting of that mound

Don’t be galloping afore my forward step, I forever implore

This, my only home I live to plod

So slow down solid-hoofed beast

These fields are laden with soft-bodied buddies from around this neck of the woods

To spice an octogenarian’s relish

Nourishing a doddering daughter and a wizened son of a generation

In pans and pots to fry like chicken feet and swine bottoms

Don’t spoil the delicacy…our eventual say

The last in the least of our world to shine

Learnmore Edwin Zvada

Learnmore Edwin Zvada is a poet in the making. He hails from Zimbabwe’s Harare Province where he is currently studying towards a degree in engineering. He fell in love with poetry at a tender age. Some of his poems have appeared in online magazines, namely, The Literary Yard, Tuck Magazine, Duane’s PoeTree, POEBITA Poetry Magazine and Whispers. At the present moment, he is working on his first poetry book. Apart from poetry, Learnmore is an ardent lover of photography and music. For more of his work, you can visit his Facebook page.