[For Derek Walcott] <br /> <br />Far from the Aegean deep, in our Caribbean Elysium shores, <br />In a fresh cadence, chanting a new mantra, <br />After all these years of our sad Egyptian labours, <br />There were twinkling stars, and I saw in the illumination of their light, <br />The Estate of a new Caribbean ethos enlightened, <br />Elevated with dignity like a Walcottian metaphor, <br />We willingly salute our own Fancy's child. <br />Skilled Wordsmith from Castries, with sceptred pen, <br />And crowned with his mitred locks, sits enthroned, <br />Like a West Indian High Priest of Poesy, <br />Whom Philomel did endow with melodious song <br />Whom Calliope did endow with epic song, <br />And Sea Nymphs, in warm St Lucian Harbours as Harbingers, <br />Upon the wings of a Caribbean wave came riding exultantly, <br />Choreographing a millioned voices like a great Quire, <br />Chorusing a song like the sweet Song from Avon, <br />Chorusing a song like the giddy Song of Circe, chanting; <br />Hail to thee! Son of the islands of the blue Caribbean Sea! <br />For out of a red St Lucian mud a shabine emerges, <br />And while the three hags whom mythopoesis made infamous, <br />Upon his fate pondered with labourous intent, <br />Between the Towers of Ilium clothed in the ivy of its myths <br /> His charioted self thunders, <br /> <br />The enactment in a bleak, grey Metropole of a Prince's Coronation- <br />Armed with his ecriture, into a Caribbean scape a Poet is born, <br />Far from a sylvan scene of an enchanted forest, <br />In an autumnal world of decay. His elephantine reach, <br />And his ditties of the islands sang by all, known by all, a song <br />That needs no chorus for it becomes its own chorus, <br />And to Homer's Sapient throng his name did Calliope add.<br /><br />ENOCH JOHN<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-for-a-st-lucian-bard/
