YRKB
08-01-2017, 10:47 AM
The King's Messenger set out to where she'd be,
The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri:
the horses behind bearing Jade and Agarbatti,
for The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Rode three nights and days awake,
from the white gold and marble mountain fort
to the Pleasure District by the lake
asked market-sellers for the one he sought,
The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Her brothel stood above the rest,
mosaic domes upon which white doves cooed;
No hawkers traded on her steps -
and patrons removed their shoes.
Inside, embossed gold lanterns lit the way,
tapestries adorned the walls:
depicting lovemaking throughout the day,
sunrise until nightfall.
A lady came, veiled and hushed -
a smoking Thurible in her hands -
and the matter between them they discussed
the King had conveyed to him first hand.
Upon his word and with a nod, she left how she had come
slipped back into the fragrant mist
promising it would be done...
He waited and he waited yet,
chambermaids brought Moringa Tea-
and on his last sip the lady had still not fetched
The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Then, she came. The great doors pulled apart -
before him now she stood.
This man of measure felt beats skip his heart
he'd never count, for no man could...
Her skin was dark as fertile soil
after the Monsoon's kiss,
some of her braided hair wrapped in a coil,
the rest cascading to her hips.
Her eyes were dark
as if the sky had banished all the stars...
and yet, without them, such an art
strewn there they'd seem like scars.
'I will not come, not for the King - you bring the King to me.
Come he will, as all men do, come here to Khonat-Ri.
Your gifts of Jade and Agarbatti, here in my stores will stay -
but the Courtesan of Khonat-Ri will not be led away.'
Aghast, he warned her it was Death -
a certain Death - she primed
and in the eternal hour until he left
he begged she change her mind!
The Courtesan still would not come
and he left Khonat-Ri
advising with concern she run
away from the city.
At mountain fort, he told the King,
who had Messenger jailed,
taken out at mornings
whipped at post until skin flailed.
Another man the King then sent -
who died by his own hand,
for The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri
would not accede to the demand.
The people of the district,
they left it in their droves
to live in her midst they risked it,
with each day the danger rose.
The Courtesan soon lost her Princes
her wealthy paramours
but still could not be convince-ed
and stayed behind closed doors...
Seasons change, the King still waits -
The Courtesan waits too-
for one must break at some future date
the question is, just who?
The King too proud to take her,
a common Courtesan, by might
who, but God, is greater
to tend to him she should delight!
Her, she knows that only
if he comes to her she'll be
forever's legendary tale: The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown
The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri:
the horses behind bearing Jade and Agarbatti,
for The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Rode three nights and days awake,
from the white gold and marble mountain fort
to the Pleasure District by the lake
asked market-sellers for the one he sought,
The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Her brothel stood above the rest,
mosaic domes upon which white doves cooed;
No hawkers traded on her steps -
and patrons removed their shoes.
Inside, embossed gold lanterns lit the way,
tapestries adorned the walls:
depicting lovemaking throughout the day,
sunrise until nightfall.
A lady came, veiled and hushed -
a smoking Thurible in her hands -
and the matter between them they discussed
the King had conveyed to him first hand.
Upon his word and with a nod, she left how she had come
slipped back into the fragrant mist
promising it would be done...
He waited and he waited yet,
chambermaids brought Moringa Tea-
and on his last sip the lady had still not fetched
The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Then, she came. The great doors pulled apart -
before him now she stood.
This man of measure felt beats skip his heart
he'd never count, for no man could...
Her skin was dark as fertile soil
after the Monsoon's kiss,
some of her braided hair wrapped in a coil,
the rest cascading to her hips.
Her eyes were dark
as if the sky had banished all the stars...
and yet, without them, such an art
strewn there they'd seem like scars.
'I will not come, not for the King - you bring the King to me.
Come he will, as all men do, come here to Khonat-Ri.
Your gifts of Jade and Agarbatti, here in my stores will stay -
but the Courtesan of Khonat-Ri will not be led away.'
Aghast, he warned her it was Death -
a certain Death - she primed
and in the eternal hour until he left
he begged she change her mind!
The Courtesan still would not come
and he left Khonat-Ri
advising with concern she run
away from the city.
At mountain fort, he told the King,
who had Messenger jailed,
taken out at mornings
whipped at post until skin flailed.
Another man the King then sent -
who died by his own hand,
for The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri
would not accede to the demand.
The people of the district,
they left it in their droves
to live in her midst they risked it,
with each day the danger rose.
The Courtesan soon lost her Princes
her wealthy paramours
but still could not be convince-ed
and stayed behind closed doors...
Seasons change, the King still waits -
The Courtesan waits too-
for one must break at some future date
the question is, just who?
The King too proud to take her,
a common Courtesan, by might
who, but God, is greater
to tend to him she should delight!
Her, she knows that only
if he comes to her she'll be
forever's legendary tale: The Courtesan of Khonat-Ri.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown