Best Madeira Poems
One of the loveliest islands I've been
Malta fits that bill without doubt
Valletta and Mellieha are real highlights
summer sunshine is an attraction to count
Venice is one beauty without doubt
surrounded fully by water all around
St Marks square takes one's breath away
an experience to make one astound
Being one who loves a good walk
the island of Menorca fits the bill
Mao being the capital on the bay
lovely forests bring nature so still
The island of Madeira has a nice climate
having such lovely fish, wine, and fruit
Funchal being its capital is majestic
such richness grows at its very root
A holiday that took us down the Med
to spend it in lovely Cyprus no less
there the sun did shine every day
shorts and t-shirts were regular dress
The beach at Orca Praia – Funchal Madeira
The powerful deep blue ocean
Expends its tidal force
Pounding down upon sea pebbles
With thud and smash so coarse
Watching from a vantage point
From the horizon to the shore
The lines of sea swell building up
Growing bigger more and more
Low, rumbling ocean rollers
Waves curling with such symmetry
Then the breakers quickly form and crash
Tossing up a plume of spray of sea
Incessant surf on shingle
Swash, swoosh and susurrate
With that endless marine motion
That will never dissipate
The waves break up and flatten
The tidal rush now gone
As the pebbles roll and rattle
Against each other as they tumble on
The roller spent, the wave now dead
Or that is what it seems
Then the backwash slithers downwards
Sluicing pebbles like big grey beans
The unending flow and ebb of tide
Today a calm but restless sea
Incessant waves wash and whoosh
So soothing it can be
But at other times she’s not so kind
Or benign to beach or land
Dashes disastrous desolation
With a fury on rock or sand
But for now I stand and wonder
At Mother Nature’s gentle reach
And watch and taste and listen
To the ocean on that basalt beach
the devil is calling
a cigarette you call it
as the airplane flying the sky
to sit ten is late waiting
surprise soon to be twenty or more ********
flying the sky to reach the tarmac
of evil with a glass of lemon juice in the morning
shame on you my dear you are acid
fancy plates from past century
I drink your wines with crystal glass
and make a madeira of your life
as I pet a cat my dog in need of a pee
no crave here to call your name
shame on you with your botox
to look sublime as I live a life
of desire and glee
as I in a box chose not to fly your plane
but eyes opened for the reveal I count on you
to make it right my dear devil.
Many memories of my mother
making moist mellow macaroons
marshmallows and Madeira cake,
minuscule madeleines, marvellous,
mum measures, marinates, melts,
more majestic meals.
My matriarch makes,
marmalade,
marzipan,
muffins,
mincemeat,
meringue.
mousse.
My meritorious mom mixes, merges, mingles,
melon,
mango,
mulberries,
Mandarins.
My maternal materfamilias, masterminds
Mealtime masterpieces.
We'd scarcely begun our journey
to the sunny south when the sky's roof
descended and hung a shelf overhead.
"God is now joining us," she said.
On the long bridge over the ocean
toward Madeira Beach, an ear-splitting
screech interrupted speech. Brakes
screamed as an auto coming forward
crossed the median into our lane.
She immediately jerked the wheel
to the right. He missed us by inches.
We moved on in stunned silence.
Clearly, we had looked death
in the face, and won. Mere seconds
measured the difference.
Driving home in heavy fog, she fretted.
Zero visibility brought anxiety.
"I've got you covered," she heard.
"Haven't I had you covered,
from the beginning?"
cfa © 1/31/11
When Haiti shook
And the old colonial
Structures fell
Who was to blame?
When the rains fell on Madeira
Making rivers of mud
Where once were roads
Who was to blame?
When earthquake and tsunami
Wreaked their havoc
On Chile’s coast
Who was to blame?
The zealots speak of God’s wrath,
Divine retribution
Against the wicked of the world
Smiting the transgressors
But it’s not the wicked who suffer
It’s the most humble and devout
The poor and the needy
Who suffer the most
Why would God do such a thing?
What would be gained?
It’s not a Godly act
But rather that of a tyrant
That’s not what my God would do
My God is a loving God
Not a wrathful being
The secular blame God
For not stopping natural disasters
They don’t believe in him
But blame him anyway
Where was God?
What was God doing when he was needed?
When something wonderful happens
They praise nature’s ingenuity
Yet when tragedy strikes
It’s “where was God?”
God is not to blame
It is not within his power to prevent disasters
So he does what he can
He comforts and supports
Eases suffering and ends pain
But my God is not to blame
Mother Nature is the culprit
The planet is angry with mankind
And unleashes these acts of spite
To punish us for our indifference
Mother Nature roars
And defines our insignificance
When the earth moves
And mountains split
When winds tear up all before them
And the seas rise up
We are powerless
But we are not alone
When we are at our most vulnerable
Who do we call upon? God
Whoever that God might be
Mine is an understanding God
A compassionate God
This years holiday took us to Madeira
an island of exquisite beauty so rare
having a history rolling back decades
raising its inhabitants looking so fair
Columbus himself stepped on this land
before heading west, America to find
UK's war leader Churchill came to paint
loving the peaceful place W.C. signed
The capital Funchal truly majestic
a city with its own story centre
three dimensional shown all its history
richly blessed what could be better?
This island has indeed such a nice climate
throughout the year its warmth varies little
making its tourism of such high regard
it's an important priority no matter how brittle
The mountains and greenery so luscious
looking down on its boisterous sea
as well as its winds which do vary
even the aeroplane bows to freely agree
What a picture this land paints
with all its wine, fish and its fruit
all this excellence must be tasted
such richness grows at its very root
(Reflections of a recent holiday spent on the lovely island of Madeira near Portugal.)
A Games Maker at London’s Paralympics 2012,
Stephanie used to be a competitor able-bodied,
In the Great Britain team, mind on the Olympics,
Even tho’ since 11 her eyes were bad, crummier.
One day when she was training in a 50m sprint,
She felt a sharp, sudden pain shoot down her arm,
Which she just ignored, but it soon re-emerged,
Such that today she’s possesses nerve damage.
She’s a para-swimmer and competes in contests,
With other disabled sportsmen and sportswomen,
Her first competition as such was in Sheffield city,
2013, the British International Swimming Champs.
So at the Commonwealth Games held in Glasgow,
2014, Stephanie won a silver for the 100m freestyle,
And then in Eindhoven which is in the Netherlands,
7 golds: 1 for back, 1 fly, 3 free, 1 relay, 2 medley.
In Funchal which is on Madeira, Portugal, in 2016,
On this approach to Rio Stephanie won 2 golds,
At the European Championships highly spirited,
1 for the 50m freestyle and 1 for the 100m butterfly.
In Rio Stephanie won the silver in 1 min 10.32 secs,
And sealed gold along with her familiar colleagues,
In the 4x100m medley relay 34pts. From Preston,
She practices in their Club, born 7th February 1991.
Custard in trifle is not bull-shark infested
Despite popular myth, ah but so easily tested
Pour jelly and sherry, sponge biscuit for bedding
Add fruits of the tropics from trees that are shedding
A dash of Madeira from slopes that face seaward
Leave time for the setting to go for the re-ward.
One helping was fine, but the stuff is so moorish
A second was taken, to refuse would be boorish
One last he insisted and scraped deep in the bowl
The taste was so good, so rounded so whole
How handsome this man how sweet and so charming
His culinary skill so easily disarming.
Now sharks there arose but friendly and warming
Gliding in gently amongst emotions now swarming
Snapping at reason and senses befuddled
Gorging on morals abandoned for cuddles
Sated at last they’re off to deep water
You high and dry and right for the slaughter.
With hot blood for transport you’re off to horizons afar
Where paradise beckons, soft sands, a singing guitar
You feel the shift in momentum, as ebb turns to flow
The deepening water as the bottom starts to go
Death in small measure as you feel the world sway
But buoyant and floating you end off your day.
Alas morning has come, big fish bites need healing
He’s gone from the pillow, you stare at the ceiling
You remember the point of your will power draining
When second helpings were taken, your appetites straining
And now silly sayings from childhood ingested
Return for the taunt - sometimes custard IS shark infested.
I let my mind go out to play,
And in jeans and sweatshirt in a forest lay.
Spring branches arching so high above,
Sunrays literally touching my toes.
I saw a bird of many colors,
An eagle looked down at me,
Heard the rustle of little lizards,
Through the bed of foliage the forest made for me.
The scent of waxen flowers
That grow with little light, and
Winding vines with huge madeira leaves,
Dappled the afternoon bright
There were sounds of creatures calling,
Murmurs of birds seeking roosts.
As twilight began to fall through the forest
No fear is felt.
Evening peace and patience draped
The forest like a loving blanket, and
This twilight beckoned me home.
I rose from my foliage mattress;
Sad was I to leave such friends,
But I would take what I learned
Back home.
Jon always does a Rubix Cube,
Before swims for his nerve,
He’s a self-confessed motorhead,
Loves driving Lamorghini’s.
Born on the 30th of May in 1991,
With mild Cerebral Palsy,
He has a BTEC in sports, science,
And trains in Manchester.
He is coached by Mick Massey,
And in Beijing won silver,
In the 100m backstroke, S7 class,
Paralympic glory to know.
In 2009 in the Reykjavik Euros,
He won 4 golds, 1 silver,
For the backstroke and freestyles,
A silver for the 50m free.
In 2010, the Worlds, Eindoven,
In the south Netherlands,
Jon won another strong, solid gold,
To add to his collection.
The London Paralympics smiled,
And he won the gold,
In the men’s 100m backstroke,
To choke slightly, podium.
Montreal 2013, Canada’s plane,
With the World Champs,
Here Jon won a gold, a bronze,
For the back and free.
Then came Funchal in Madeira,
Which is Portuguese,
2016, and for back and freestyle,
Jon won gold, silver.
In Rio he was on the defensive,
To keep his Para title,
For the backstroke 100 metres,
But was sad with silver.
Susie was inspired by the Beijing Paralympics,
To pursue her talent at swimming, to train hard,
So she was classified as an S7, deformed limbs,
And won three medals in London, one in Rio.
She has a BA in languages from Newcastle,
Which she uses in her British Council work,
And first appeared in Berlin city at the Euros,
In Germany’s 2011 IPC Championships.
In London she won freestyle bronze 100m,
Another bronze for the 400 metres freestyle,
And yet another bronze for the 4x100m relay,
Also free - it’s where you do the front crawl.
In the French city of Montreal in Canada,
Quebec, Susie secured 1 gold and 4 silvers,
Gold for the 4x100m freestyle relay 34pts,
Silvers for 50, 100, 400 free and for 50 fly.
In 2014 in Eindhoven in the Netherlands,
Susie took five golds: the 50m butterfly,
The 50, 100 and the 400 metres freestyle,
And another for the 100m freestyle relay.
Then in Glasgow at the IPC Worlds 2015,
Susie won a gold 4x100m medley relay,
Also a bronze for the 100 metres freestyle,
So Funchal 2016 (Euros) came naturally.
In Funchal which exists on Madeira island,
Susie took five golds: the 50 metres butterfly,
The 50m, the 100m and the 400m freestyle,
And another for the medley relay, the 100m.
So in Rio she rejoiced when she won gold,
In the 50m butterfly in a time of 35.07 secs;
She could not believe it because she’s 33,
And intended to retire after London 2012.
Harriet has Beckwith-wiedemann syndrome,
Something which shortened her right side,
And she also his difficulty with blood sugar,
But she’s a dog lover of Baya Bear and Bow.
Born in Huntington which is a market town,
In Cambridgeshire, on the 6th of May 1991,
She’s good at the breaststroke and medley,
Which she practices in Peterborough’s club.
Harriet splashed onto the swimming scene,
In 2010 at the World Champs, Netherlands,
Where she won the silver individual medley,
And the gold for the SB9 100m breaststroke.
She suffered from illness in the year of 2011,
But at the British Champs in 2012 in London,
She won the gold for the 100m breaststroke,
So at the 2012 Paras Harriet won the bronze.
In French Montreal in Canada land in 2013,
Harriet won the silver breaststroke class SB9,
And then in Portugal’s Funchal on Madeira,
She won gold medley relay and silver 4x100.
This sent Harriet to Rio where she excelled,
To win silver in the 100m breaststroke again,
In a time of 1:16.87 minutes to tail behind,
Gold medalist Lisa Kruger, the Netherlands.
It was in the eighties, a winter day in Funchal,
the capital of Madeira, when a woman gave birth.
She was an anonymous, struggling woman
sailing the seas of poverty, with three other
children to feed.
At first, she hesitated to have this little baby,
the fourth to come, because the family salary
did not cover more. Her husband, a good man,
who fought in a war in Africa for years,
and, in a different way, still fighting with himself,
he was of no help to the family at that time.
Finally, she took a decision as a mum,
to give light to her new baby.
After that moment, nothing changed for years,
until this baby was a little boy.
Then, he started to show signs of being special.
His intelligence, the way he faced life,
his unique behaviour.
He started thinking about turning a football
into his livelihood to have a better future
for himself and his family, and he certainly did.
As a teenager, his father couldn´t help him much,
but he also liked football, so, that fed the boy´s dreams.
He had a hard time in Lisbon at the beginning
of his career at the football school. He also suffered
from bullying, something that helped him to increase
his aims even more.
However, he also had friends
whom he remembers with great affection.
When he was eighteen,
he spread his wings to fly higher. He went to England,
where his dream started to come true.
After that, the Funchal´s star
showed that light that became brighter and brighter.
He was the best football player in the world;
Portugal, England, Spain, Italy, and keep on going.
A little particle coming from a poor Portuguese area
that reached many hearts.
I, personally don´t like football too much,
but I´m really enchanted about stories
that have so much to teach us.
And not only that, but this well-known sportsperson
is also a well-known friend of those who need him.
He really jumped and sorted out hard obstacles
through his life, to achieve the goal he set
for himself as a child.
What a great lesson taught!,
splendid, admirable lady-mum,
outstanding, unbeatable son.
He was born as a shining star,
whose light illuminates many paths to follow,
as a professional sportsman and as a born fighter from humility.
Go and stretch a puppy's tail,
Get with rice a manioc root,
Tell me if sun will buy moon a veil,
Or to who he gave her leather boot,
Teach me to hear coyote’s singing,
Or to keep off drunk bees’ stinging,
And sniff
What skiff
May tell you where I gobble lollipop.
If you think that you are so witty,
And brag you can do anything worse;
Visit all the liquor shops in the city,
Till you spend last loonie in your purse;
You, when you come home, will tell me,
All the grand bottles that you did see,
And swear,
No where
You saw any man gobbling lollipop.
If you find one, let our son know,
It’ll water his mouth with sweet;
Yet I’m sure, son will not go,
Though at next door you might meet;
And he were eating, when you met him,
And last, till you guide our son there,
Yet he
Will be
Gobbling bottles of Madeira, not lollipop.
Dec. 20, 2020
PARODY OF A FAMOUS POEM Poetry Contest
Contest Sponsor: L. Milton Hankins