Mai and Alqaisarriya
I was torn
with shame.
Sweet dreams
of mine, lit aflame,
As I walked tiny allies
of "Alqaisarriya"
What was once,
A ravishing suq!
Is now...
Maimed and dying.
One last endearing
shade of seafarers.
Lured, I guess!
To quit
dispairing scenes.
They sailed away.
Left me stranded,
On this ailing pier.
Embracing my old town
with aching farewells,
They were singing mysterious
"Yamals"
I felt them saying
"So long,
"Muharraq!"
My dormant isle.
So long.....
A warm
A glaring home."
That day,
The skies drizzled.
Under livid canopies,
I walked down the main road,
Seeking,
Resurrected house of "Ben Farris"
I felt his pain,
The lonesome artist.
Watching his silent lute,
An orphan plectrum,
They were shy,too!
They were voiceless,
Retired violins.
With bleary eyes
I abandoned the crowd.
From that northern corner,
A fine breeze
had me dulcified!!
From that northern corner,
Stood one enlightened "Majlis"
Wafting solaced echoes of
her gentle voice,
Shaikha "Mai"
Resonating in olden corridors,
Of Muharraq!
I prayed
In my heart for her,
And swiftly,
I disappeared.
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| oldmedina | 
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