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Mayers Road - Barbados

by Novy123 

Posted: 18 April 2020
Word Count: 318
Summary: A memory of spending time in my fathers mother land Barbados in 2001


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Sitting on the moist top of balcony view
Fern covered, in my warddrobe I stare there at
Each station holding me fast to numbers and dominoes played in the evening
In yard - a shed with my chickens hatching and pecking fed scrumptously on corns
My feet tonight are lifted on a stool cushion
And the air is hot to the point of stifling
Fish don't come cheap these days and were told all things stop at 8pm until the Church Preachers cry out at 7
Complaints are dancing on lips of locals of ''how to enjoy this rising of Christ?, this Easter''
Mine tonight is finding happy
Lifting the glad
You stand looking up at me
Seen your gorgeous eyes
Our musket gun is held; framed on the wall
And Charlie Chaplins funny walk brings laughter to my mind and fingers jitter
I think of stitching
Hold a hanky to my nose to sniff at Lavendar
Tight stationery pens in middle of the table as a grandchild softly sleeps beneath a concrete roof
The tin of my own is all hot and heated and I wonder if the cockrel crow
Will know there is nowehere to go
Sweat drips down my throat line and lies inside a wrinkle
No flights out to sunny boy in Canada!
Frog jumps and bay leaf trees suggest to flooded vases
We see each house little and frail almost as my agile yet ageing body
Behind shutters painted a blue, green, purple or red or yellow
As if sea huts on a beach
Another grandchild tells me after her dissapointments in city and finance that her success
Succseeded her and this is her destination of respite
My lap and land
We each our community close
Hold hands in prayer that are invisible and I reach clutch and reach
As if each child is there
Reach not to be entwined or dictated to.






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Comments by other Members



michwo at 19:07 on 18 April 2020  Report this post
Hi Aisha. I'm not Bill admittedly but I've left a comment on your first version of "Mayers Road" posted prior to this one on Tuesday, 14 April 2020.
Is this version different? It looks the same to me.

crowspark at 18:18 on 19 April 2020  Report this post
Hi Aisha

As I said before I really enjoyed your poem, and I liked the ending:

My lap and land
We each our community close
Hold hands in prayer that are invisible and I reach clutch and reach
As if each child is there
Reach not to be entwined or dictated to.


I look forward to reading more of your poems.

Hi Michael, this is the same poem. I suggested Aisha should post it in Flash Poetry as it was an entry for the challenge.

V`yonne at 12:53 on 20 April 2020  Report this post
I sgree with Bill on the strength of that ending. It's a wonderful thought! I enjoyed this poem too,


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