My Ebony Orchid,
no need now to hurry; already
we're safely on board our ferry laissez-faire.
Not much room here-
not even for worry,
so settle your floral self ‘this crowded cabin
as we, on a clear course to a new beginning
cross again, the channel of ancient lore:
of buccaneers bearded and brave-
of broadside battles long ago.
The well leaden bow will, at anytime now
unanchor its Alexander Hamilton's birth
and take us magnetic north to the Basseterre shore.
Sleep, my Ebony Orchid;
the prettifications of your floret face
are showing six somnolent signs.
Rest in solace, your ticking thoughts
against the cotton shield of my shoulder;
shape your warm petal cheek
to the ‘open invitation' of my chest,
permit those sun-dressed eyelids
to close completely; let serenity
trade places with our shackle-shaking romping
of long, a lovely day.
Sleep soundly- deeply-
Your hair, in the concurring wind
can wave its goodbye to Nevis.
Sleep!
and drift in the comfort of dreams;
even as my buoyant heart
surfs the untraceable wake-
beyond the clueless shade of blue,
back to the rhapsody that was Charleston.
With Erato's quenching pen
I'll stroll its quaint, but busy streets,
journey once again
to stretch on the sandy “Sunshine Beach”,
circle the ‘flag filled' Bamboo canteen-
settle at its comparable table, while your idyllic beauty
out of my delighted eyes dine.
Sleep!
The ferry's noisy belly won't bother you now.
The high price we've been, in waiting paying
has suddenly dropped,
the sacrifice- the cost-
the whole haunting business has incurred a heavy loss;
our tarrying through the ports of a choppy past
have sunken like a cent into a boundless sea.
Sleep soundly- deeply-
cling only, to the diary that records this mnemonic day
and leave the rest of the way to me.
Our trip, my lover, is far from over;
whatever was written on those pages of doubt
have been, by this changing tide of time
torn out.
