Etched in Stone

Etched in Stone In the soothing serene silence of a shining summer day Strolling along a lonely alley laid in black stones Bordered on both sides with verdant greens Interspersed with some yellow trumpets In the graveyard of Saint Jean church Hoisted on a small tropical island One can eye at its centre point A glamorous graceful grave Carved in greyish stones Chiseled in rectangles On which is etched By artistic hands An epitaph Written out verily by the incumbent himself Some time before his flight to the sky: “Do not cry. I am not dead. I am pretending” A charismatic leader of a party vehemently opposing Independence of his country, but once toppled down By the voice o the populace, joined the ranks Of the ruling stream to lend a helping hand For his country to come out of the gulf Of dearth, distress and deprivation A sharp criminal lawyer of the higher wealthy class As of deprived, destitute and desolate widows He oft knitted friendship with law brokers And with wild wit would defend their cases An advocate and adherent of well-off sugar magnates A warden and guardian of captains of industry He would often uphold the case of workers In a bid to wear the prevalent, popular hat Gifted with a retentive memory flashing above board And a brain racing faster than thunderous winds He could outshine his opponents with a gag Minister of state for a while, garbed in an acting dress He strived to set his country on the world map Entice tourists to trip to the paradise island And allure foreign entrepreneurs To launch local ventures Yet his lavish public expenditure and profuse life style Sporadically sparked off sincere shines of dissent Within and outside the corridors of power He did excel at exceeding the extremities of extravagance And in his personal life claimed the right to excess Living as a luxurious, lavish, legendary lord Knighted by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of United Kingdom For weaving labyrinth of ties with the former colonial master He was known by his compatriots as Sir Gaetan An emotional epitaph elegantly etched in stone of a soul With a shining heart cutely carved in molten gold He would not shun to extend a generous hand To folks in need without a roof on their head Irrespective of caste, colour or creed And his door was ever open to all Who on him would wish to call Was the intent of the words etched on stone to shirk away tears From the circle of relatives, close of kin and friends From the sphere of admirers and passers-by Or meant to catch in the web of sympathy Barons of society and common folks The well off and slum dwellers Was the emotive enigma etched in stone meant to reflect The energetic, enigmatic and eccentric journey of life Of a disparate, distinctive departed soul