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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Nine years a stranger in a strange land travelling to my island in the sun. A native son returning a native strand where the journey had all begun And I by the grace of God survived the thrust and roar of engines loud. Upon BeeWee silver wings we dived into that misty archipelago cloud Piarco tarmac lights on plains below soon upon the trail of Queen's Park. Charting the maps of time long ago - was late and the boulevard was dark The banyan trees, the rustling palms, glow of that bright calypso moon. To my soul a succour its island balms and cool sea breezes a gentle boon Down the Churchill-Roosevelt to the sea and Beetham Highway shanties go by. But was Port of Spain's restless quay that conspired to grab my roving eye Fishing boats and cargo ships berth her clamourous city docks and pier. The Gulf of Paria's sleepy channel firth, and look...it's Independence Square Upon the corner of Sweet Briar and Gray where as a boy I played in the rain. Waking by carol song on Christmas Day, and hearken Greyfriar's sweet refrain Memories flood eyes and ears and soul to see again the hills of Diego Martin. Where on the big screen in days of old I saw movies at the Starlite Drive-in See ancient Savannah parched and bare tormented by dry season's hot sun. Yonder hazy hilltop ridges no better fare but soon the rains in deluge come Over blustery Northern Straits we flew to Buccoo Reef and Nylon Pool coral. Tobago's Crusoe shores came to view with her verdant hills rich and floral Upon the Coast Road to Maracas bay drinking a fool's fill by the fire's flame. But I was seventeen almost to the day and at seventeen I was always game I met a lass whose eyes through me tore, more lovely than words can convey. Beauty I've not known since or before - I'd like to remember her this way Fondly I gazed the dormant Oval grounds, rapturous but for a short lived respite. At my window did roar out the sounds of steelband and parang in the night With February upon us quickly I fear Carnival's sleeping tribes awakened. I had no costume, no robes to wear yet my burning spirit was unshaken Soon on Jouvay morn at break of light spilled the hordes out of Sparrow's tent. Revellers in the streets day and night till Las Lap, Ash Wednesday and Lent But our time here had drawn to an end and leaving again bittersweet to me. Saddened alas, but my heart did mend for what once was can again never be! Written: May 1992
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