Jamaicanness

by FRANCIS NATION
(BIRMINGHAM, ENGLAND)

Big ship in the harbour.
There's a welcome on the shore
Beckoning you to come and share
The spendour this island offer.

Trekking over mountain passes
Climing the famous water-fall
Taking dips in encharnting whirlpools
Deep in green-gratto lagoons.

Feeling the heat on turkle-beach
Get with the rythm of the reggae-beat
Savour the delight of a jerk-pork feast
At "double-v" by the sea.

And when the big ship sailed once more
With bonvage echoing from the shore
I'll be so glad for making it Jamaica,
This land of wood and water...


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Or
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Meandering up the fertile hill side,
Christened with morning dew,
Whistling frogs in lime stone grags,
Seemed to be playing me a tune.

I stood motionless,
Eyes sweeping rugged mountain range,
Reminding me of rough terrains,
Dense bush and winding trails,
I roamed in my youth.

And suddenly,
I longed for the sweet smell
Of log-wood blooms, after cooling rain.
To feel and hear crushing leave underfoot,
When the sun came.
To yell aloud at the wild terrain,
And wait for it to yell back at me.
How strange...
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That what say I’m in Jamaica!