Sweet summer rain relieves breathing
in East Coast’s sauna like atmosphere.
Where Pocahontas did appear
sorrowfully unaware
trapped like a fawn at harvest.
Love struck by Capt Kirk falseness.
She saved him
and he left her waiting.
She left a kingdom for him
and he left her abandoned.
He even faked his own death
to escape the guilt
of telling her the truth.
What a cowardly lion.
Naive Princess Pocahontas
you were your father’s favorite
and he too exiled you in deep grief
after you betrayed him.
Then even your favorite brother died.
How can you survive
this much tragedy?
You met the English queen
in sheen satin and silk spun finery.
She did stare at you there
as if you were her property.
Then soon you died
of malaria didn’t they say?
All gone your spiritual life
for regal destinations of nouvelle decay.
Your barefeet balance trapped in false clothes.
*This poem is based on the historical fiction of the Terrence Malick film, “The New World”
Wonderful written, beautiful imagery. Faux
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Faux.
LikeLike
My absolute pleasure 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reality vs fairy tale. Thank you, Judy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha, yes “historical fiction” is often a very different story 😊, thanks Sylvester!
LikeLike
Haha, I totally agree 😀 you’re welcome, Judy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀!
LikeLiked by 1 person