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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Wistful is the heart, silent the walls where the gambols of youth echoed. A return tale’s sentimental journey inside the gates of Sweet Briar Road Long it behoves me my thanksgiving to you, aunties Yvonne and Jocelyn T. For all the love you showed withal and for all the good you saw in me Hearken the jumbie bird in the night, the heat of day and smell of rain. And QRC bell tower sombre tolled the hills and valleys of Port of Spain The crowd’s roar filled its cricket halls on window row to a grandstand view. And an open door its gates would be to weary travellers passing through By candlelight on evensong sabbath I saw hands petitioned in God’s raise. And among portrait, altar and chattel an old ne-gro woman chanted in praise Downstairs eating pepper mango, salt prune and sweet preserved plum. And upstairs the ghosts of the dead a trickery of wind and light become With long treetop fruit picker in hand softly chorused the sound of Greyfriars. When joyfully as I picked to my ear sung the weekly Church Group Choir Up creaky staircase bedroom chamber, pantry annex and old livery quarters. Home to where my grandfather lived with his wife, eight sons and daughters In Christian soldier evangelical prayer waited I for sleep’s silent lull perchance. O but late by BBC midnight wireless did growl the dogs in lunar trance I followed the trail back to its past - a prodigal son on long returned stay. When time and fate and the risen sun dawned upon a much younger day Written: January 1993
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