The Rhythm of Samba

Tap here, tap there
A little jiggle, a little bounce
The beautiful Bahian girls and boys sway
To the rhythm that is Samba.

Long, curly locks flow
Sand speckled curves shine
Minuscule swimwear
Adorns and baits
The sons and daughters of Samba.

When the sun goes to sleep
Palms whispering lullabies
In the gentle breeze
Lime, sugar and Cachaca
Come out to play
Caipirinhas all round
To the Samba beat.

The capoeiristas convolute and twist
Perfect limbs and washboard abdomens
In centuries-old play and fight
Brought across the oceans by slaves long gone.

Acarajé with vatapá
Spice, palm oil to celebrate
The afro-Brazilian cuisine.
Amidst the drums of Candomblé
Trances, white garments,
Wild dancing
The spirit of a far-flung land
The land of the Samba beat.

And still the waves caress the golden beaches
Seaweeds dress up the rocks
Mangoes and coconuts fall off trees
In the balmy tropical heat
They accompany the rhythm of the land
A thump, a splash, a laugh.
Samba.