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PUPPY LOVE BY THE STREAM
To my dearest Sweetheart,
my dearest beloved,
my one and only true love;
I sit here in a cold desert of frozen water
reminiscing about memorable times.
My body is shivering
from being miles apart;
but it is not the weather that is making me cold.
How I do miss your angelic warmth,
Of being wrapped up in your soothing heart.
In the fetal position
I seek a safe domain inside your thoughtful brain.
If you only knew
my deep deep sorrow,
I miss your sweet sweet sting of amorous arrows.
Cupid seems to be very busy this year?
Your burning flames race through my veins.
Your passionate fire consumes my flesh.
I need the deep deep pain of loving you.
Just the memory alone of your generous affections
Is worth more than ten thousand naked virgins
singing in the rain.
Objects of insane lust
cannot break our love-trust.
Super models
will never sit in your saddle.
Center folds,
my love for you will not be sold.
Movie stars
need not apply;
for the comfort position, they don’t qualify.
Go-Go dancers
will be left with their cold dancing poles,
for on your love I am completely sold.
As I lay in your virtual arms,
with my head betwixt your tender breast,
I recall all our fond memories together,
while wrapped in your oozing blanket
of love and tranquil peace.
With your heavenly warmth all around me,
enshrouding my soul in Cupid’s amorist cave.
I relive with your avatar
All the unforgettable times we shared.
For I am yours now and forever.
I sincerely hope you will be mine till the end of time.
Oh Jamaica,
I sure do love you.
BLISSFUL LOVE:
Under the generous equator
the Caribbean Sea gave birth to the Rock,
pushed out of her clear blue-green womb.
The understanding sea
gave birth to Jam-Rock millions of years ago
after it rested a bit in the abyss,
to gather her thick blanket of limestone.
Arawaks and Tainos seduced by her affections,
Journeyed from the southern continent,
to fall in love with our small little earthly heaven,
and then stayed.
Jews running from France, Portugal, and Spain,
seek refuge in Jam-down’s domain.
Found understanding
In the bosom of a mother they could honour.
They were welcomed
with wide open arms in Xaymaica.
So they set up tent,
stayed awhile and rested.
Land of rivers, wood and water
is the slogan of our Clan.
The beautiful hills and valleys
which seems to be a part of God’s plans.
For our beloved land loves runners,
and running like a “Bolt” of lighting is our Creed.
JA was
christened Colony of Santiago in 1494
under Spanish rule;
then reborn as Jamaica in 1655
under British schools.
In the Garden Parish of St. Ann
is an unknown place called River Head.
Where the palm trees that are not really trees
dance to the rhythms of the winds.
The sun wakes up early in the morning
while all the flora wears a heavy dew drops coat.
The red soil satisfies its thirst
with generous donations
from the white curtain’s purse.
The emerald green parrots
argue about the state of affairs
while the Frogs and Toads scold the timid cold,
from Bromeliads in the trees’ tops
in the cool early morning breeze blowing bold.
Down a very steep hill,
but short still,
is a bottomless enormous hole.
The locals call “Blue Hole.”
It is what gives the village its name.
Cold fresh water bubbles up from underground
to collect in this natural reservoir,
with towering cylindrical limestone walls.
The water overflows its natural container
spilling over the lips of Mother Nature’s cistern
to form a small little river.
It twists and turns through wood,
Bamboo, and vines like a snake.
To spill its contents into a lake,
where Cranes and Sea Gulls seem to roam in packs.
But it is at the river’s head
where the tall grass grows,
and guava trees seem to move in herds.
It was there that
I met my first love,
It would seem
our puppy love was born by the stream.
For some unknown reason
it was the season of love
in an island without reason for any seasons.
My “First Sweetheart,”
lassoed my heart
with her invisible rope
without rhyme
or reason it would seem.
But she was pleasantly playful
which seem to take on a little more meaning
in Valentine with no season.
We romped and laughed,
giggled and frolicked in the tall grass by the river.
We had no idea of what we were doing,
while powerful forces laying dormant:
Pulled us.
Moved us.
Like puppets in love
skylarking to ballads,
or marionettes attached to emotional strings
dancing a graceful ballet.
We were two butterflies blown to and fro,
being forced by the winds of providence,
with gusts and swirls until being caught in a web,
beaded with sticky gobs of love pearls.
We discerned with innocent minds
that people who had these nameless feelings
spend a lot of time in special magical places.
Where children seem to appear out of thin air,
in the same sacred places built for two.
So,
we equally concurred to play:
house,
husband,
and wife.
Cause this is what special people
in the village seem to do.
We asked each other
if we could take a peek
at the personal secrets we all keep.
For curiosity sake
I showed her mine,
then she reciprocated in good time.
With silly little grins,
and lofty erected chins;
we were happy as playful kittens,
with paws full of newly found infatuated yarn.
All that was needed
was a simple prick
as we pressed our lips for our first pretend kiss,
for puppy love was born by the stream.
We knew nothing!
But it was the best of everything,
in the age of innocence!
May the almighty God
curse one and all
unwanted evil guests to this dimension of innocence.
With a thousand curses,
For those who dare to take advantage
of this tender age wrapped in blissfulness.
To destroy the lives of babies,
and their children’s children.
Which is simple murder of an innocent soul!
There are lines
which should not be crossed for any reasons.
For those who think all rules and taboos,
were made to be broken in any seasons.
Oh Jamaica
I truly love you
My first love
My first pretend kiss
Please say you will wait to be mine.
PARADISE LOST:
Two miles from “Blue Hole,”
past the same lake at the end of the snaking river,
is the lush full Fern Gully.
Fern Gully,
Is more than a Disney creation,
It exists in Jamaica still,
as it did before my story ever began.
Close by where the next part
of the story takes place,
and before you reach Ochi Rios,
is Dunn’s River Falls.
It is where paradise calls,
and lovers seek true grace.
It is like a miniature Niagara Falls.
While Niagara Falls
is like an beautiful exotic woman,
caged on a pedestal.
She is to be looked at,
and not to be touched.
She is dangerous.
She is unreachable,
for mere mortal folks like us.
But Dunn’s River falls is:
Accessible,
Beautiful,
Like an exotic woman who loves you back.
You can touch her,
feel her wetness,
be subdued by her seduction,
frolic and play with her,
talk to her and fall in love with her forever,
while her emotions race by your feet.
Dunn’s River Falls essence originates
high in the hills of JA,
where abundant painful tears of the island collect,
then flow down to caress rocky steps
laid out by God in a Zen garden;
then empty below
into the welcoming Caribbean Sea,
after creeping through the white sandy beach.
At an undisclosed place in this Nirvana Grove,
is a small natural room for two
in Jam-Dung’s Garden of Eden,
Dunn’s River Falls.
It was there that maturing souls
who were coming of age
checked into nature’s secret room for two.
The aura about the place
was like the time we spent at the river’s head,
in the tall grass by the river.
My heart was impregnated with the same feelings
when we shared puppy love by the river.
But now the small seed
she planted so many years ago
had grown to its full trimester
and ready to overflow.
The powerful forces that were sleeping,
were now starting to awaken.
To compel us to partake
of long overdue ecstasy.
She was still a ball of innocence,
enveloped by womanly flesh.
Her deep brown eyes,
still sparkling above an inviting long smile.
Yes, I do love her still!
Her lips had developed into blood engorge desires
that wrapped her seductive words with a smile.
Where my betroth had coastal plains,
now grew blue mountains
which were capped with snow peaks.
She was so so fine,
her twins were very steep,
the greatest gradient in my mind’s eye
and they were all mine
according to the secret covenant we keep.
A healthy helping of flesh was wrapped around her
female treasure-chest.
She had lovely child-bearing hips,
and her symbol of beauty was well endowed.
A pretty cocked bumper
that formed a comfortable pillow
on the sandy ground.
Filling the air with her womanly spells,
was her smooth dark skin,
that God carefully placed around her valleys and hills,
while tightly hugging the turns.
We had waited a long time
for this moment of no return,
enduring much self-sacrifice.
During the dark ages,
when we sat in cages throughout
silent lonely nights chained in chastity.
Her blooming pink rose was locked up tight,
her enticing butterfly never spreading its wings,
and learning how to fly:
Wanting
Desiring
But, wet dreams of her most beloved,
which is not a real solution
kept the tsunami of emotions at bay
while enshrouded by shackles of abstinence.
A gentle touch with naughty whisperings,
to make her slightly tingle
like small bells at Christmas time.
Invoking pleasant memories
is always a good catalyst,
to speed up the reaction
of biological love chemicals.
With gentle curiosity
I bowed to my beloved Nubian Queen
for favours I did not seem to deserve.
Consumed by her eyes
devouring my soul.
I stole a real kiss
from her tender lips.
She said:
“touch me there.”
Which produced a spark,
and lit a small flickering flame.
That Grew,
and Grew!
She said:
“please touch me here
then kiss me there.”
Thus, what was warm became hot
as the fire of love exploding into raging flames,
and consuming all doubts.
That us two,
stealing love under the moonlit sky,
was made to be one
now and forever.
She anchored her claws into my wet naked back.
Mesmerized by her glossy eyes,
pulling me into her paradise.
I tried to speak,
but could only scream
mad passionate mumbo jumbo.
Meaningless strings of words
encapsulating her name.
We shared ourselves to all we were giving.
She opened up her beautiful butterfly wings,
and heaved me in
to her lustful valley.
To prance about her Fern Gully,
with gentle streams,
percolating springs,
and a teardrop island it would seem.
Invisible pheromones
had laid out a reliable path of fate,
a treasure map
to travel on,
and be lead to her female treasure-chest.
Where X marked the spot!
Welcome to the Garden of Eden.
When you enter here,
you enter heaven.
With amalgamated minds
and spirits mingled.
We pressed our sweet sweaty lips,
and souls together for a deep passionate kiss.
Blue Mountain erupted into dawn,
then it was gone!
Paradise was lost,
at a cost of shedding the veil of innocence.
The time had come
to leave the garden as man and wife.
For this moment in life’s journey was done.
Oh Jamaica
I truly love you
My first love.
My first kiss.
With paradise lost,
pledge yourself to me forever.
With my soul as my pen
my spirit as my ink,
and my heart as the paper I write upon.
I laid down these few humble lines
for the legacy of the love we share.
I have laughed with you.
I have cried with you.
I have loved with you.
I entered your mind
and looked through your eyes.
Dared to step in your footsteps
and walked beside you down life journey.
To become you in a small moment in time.
To understand your essence,
and receive the message you are sharing.
With the flakes of stars falling
upon the frozen tundra.
I nestle like a warm puppy
amongst your imaginary breast.
To ward off the frigid cold
with warming reassurance
that you feel the same,
In loving me.
Now I lay down my head to go to sleep,
to dream of our small bit of heaven
down there in Paradise.
Oh Jamaica,
as I call out your affectionate names.
Xaymaica
Colony of Santiago
Rock
Jam Rock
Jam Down
Jam Dung
JA, I still Love you.
Leegal Poet
Wayne Ferron . All rights reserved @ copyright
