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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required We boarded the Carnival Cruise in Miami with excitement, our destination was Montego Bay- with a promise of great fun; colourful reefs, tranquil waters, breathtaking vistas and sun, pure white beaches, music, and I was soon swinging to reggae rhythms. Taking a break to stroll on the promenade, I leaned over, the railing for a view of the water below and then- I was falling; the next thing I knew was that I was washed up on a beach, I looked out to sea and there was no trace of the Carnival cruise ship. I said to myself, don't panic, keep calm, go find some help, walking the beach there was no evidence of any human life here; this tropical island was uninhabitable, yet I heard birds calling, and soon noticed I was being followed by a group of cute little monkeys. It came over me that I was stranded, marooned, isolated, on this lost tropical island, although beautiful, I felt a great doom; it was then I decided to go inland and find some water to drink, but found no spring or pond, but I saw that broad leaves held rain water. So right away I knew that drinking water was not a problem, then it was getting dark and I needed to find a shelter for protection; that is when I noticed a natural cave entrance in a mossy hillside, it was dark inside but seemed a perfect place for me to rest until morning. I fell asleep quickly and dreamt of my days as a Girl Guide, recalling some of the survival skills- that I had been taught once; the next morning I went searching for food but found nothing, except mushrooms, red berries, and roots- the monkeys were eating. I figured if they could eat it, then I could too, and so I did, suddenly I was covered by mosquito bites, ouch, I ran into the sea; later that day I found a plant growing that I knew- lemon balm, it had a strong lemony scent and picking the leaves I used them like a wipe. In the days that followed I became a survivor- with a fire, when I fell a glass pendent came with me and I placed it in the sun; with twigs and leaves and soon had fire for a cooking and a signal, I gathered leaves to use as bedding in my cave and days took on a routine. Each day for years I kept the signal fire burning and prayed, a sharp branch became a spear to hunt, a shell became my knife; days, weeks, months, years passed- and then time mingled, so old, my hair white, bone weary and tired, I went to my cave forever. ________________________________ January 21, 2017 Poetry/Narrative/Survival Copyright Protected, ID 17-867-746-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. For the contest, Tropical Island, sponsor, Shadow Hamilton First Place
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