The camp was filled with beautiful ladies,
dancing barefoot on the land.
The innocence of the natives flourished,
offering strangers a helping hand.
The strangers drank fire-water into the night,
and had their way with ladies of choice.
The braves returned and stayed out of sight,
until the sound of the chiefs haunting voice.
The blast of gun-fire permeated the air,
arrows soared everywhere.
Death came easy to the strangers that day.
The braves had no choice but to blow them away,
to protect the honor of the squaws in May.
Written: May 18/2007
Melvina Germain
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/954-honor-of-the-squaws-in-may/
