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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required How is the dew that came Before rain and sun's flame Gone so fast Is it because its wet Was only enough for shrubs And shrubs are easy to forget Or is that no glory last Where the sun scrubs White the sinews of trees? You who once policed the law Did also make the law In City chambers where Streets alone Carry the exotic flower Of your name When they ask me, What shall I answer for your shadowed fame Between the cousins who broke your heart? What was the legacy to the nation Now that the Jamaican Workers Trade Union was only root For the almighty scion That became the tree? Busta gave you no rain Manley pruned you excessively And there was no seed after that Except the truth That the new Jamaica was your vision first. I saw you once Singing Sankey before the village shop Canvassing the primitives I saw a stone hit your lantern And many more stones drop Like bombs around us exploding your dream The night was silent after that Father Coombs Had neither face nor trace again How can a great man fall like that The political ladder is a slippery slope And those who climb Must more than hope To lead dissidents of the slime pit Along with virtue must have grit Buttered on the bread of wit. And soon its May again But now the time of workers memory is past Until the rains fall again Against the drought shall the dew hold fast Will Father Coombs in white again Raise his hands and turn and smile To hear the fickle people call The fickle father's name? And shall I not tell them Cobwebs are also significant In the mystery of the world?
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