Walking down the steps of the Plane,I was struck.
By the green,no twisted,burnt out Buildings over here.
No blackened trees,no holes in the street,thunder struck.
Flowers,vivid Magenta,Bouganvillia,Hibiscus bright red I swear.
Smiling faces all around,Mom and Dad hugging us all.
In England they worked hard,but hardly ever smiled together.
We were in a Paradise,no bangs,no Bombs fall.
Their love has brought us out to this lovely weather.
The Bahamas a magical place,Sea,Sun,Sand and Freedom.
Going to school was an adventure,Boat travel twice daily.
My first fishing trip,on the Boat in the Harbour.
My line tangled around a fifteen pound,eye popping Crawfish.
My brother took the picture,Me,Daddy holding the Crawfish.
Taller than me,we ate him quite gratefully,carefully.
Swimming was another adventure,water all around our Paradise Island.
Waves suck you down,drive your face into the sand.
Bathing suits,walking home,crunchy with sand,showers are needed.
In 1949 my brothers learned Spear Fishing.
I had access to fish scales,learned to make flowers.
Made pins and earrings for Church goers,supply was upgraded.
Today 57 years later,I am still making flowers.
For sophisticated Tourists,encourage by creating
beautiful.unique,works of art.
On Paradise Beach,we watched,'Blind Blake and George Symonette' They sang'Conch ain't got no bone''Jone Oh Jones''Mary Ann'and any song requested,for us 'Christmas Carols'.
George danced with the female Tourists,to their great delight.
It was a magical time,small refugees from a War.
Free to do what they pleased,after School and Homework.
'What to do?' I never heard anyone say.
'I am bored,I have nothing to do' any day.
We Beach Combed,fished,watched Soldier Crabs climb
Palm trees.
When a Storm was travelling,we knew.'Storm-a-coming'
Storms,hurricanes would whip the sand on out bare bodies.
Sand Blasting our skin.in doors and wait calm seas
After a Storm,we would rush down to the Sea.
Wondering just what Treasures,the Storm drove on the shore.
New shell,with the animal inside got thrown back.
In those ancient days there never was any garbage seen.
Animals from deep Ocean would be seen amongst the Sea Weed.
Horse eye seeds and African pods,Bamboo from South American shores.
No cups,no bottles,no oil spills,only Sea Grass.
Piles of brand new pristine shells,mountains of new Sea Weed.
Sometimes the Waves would scalp the Beach,no sand.
Just bare rocks,but next Storm,all back to normal.
Nowadays ther is oil,dinnerware and mercy,condoms.
People have to organize cleanups to find the Beach.
Now ther is more pride in a clean Ocean Beach.
'Environment'is a calling card to save the Fish Nurseries.
Used to be a'Dirty Word' used by 'Rabble Rousers.'
How times have changed,Environmentalists are now
consulted,even beseached.
To put their Stamp of approval,on all ne Projects.
Since my only child is an enviromentalist,,they don't reject.
Her advice any more,but'Don't step on pet projects.'
Here in Eleuthera,the Beaches are clean,pink and pristine.
The Tongue of the Ocean,starts just off Rock Sound
The Eastern edge looks just like the tip end Tongue.
Surrounded by Sand Dunes,like a mouth gulping sand.
Sand Banks look from the air,like'The Sahars Desert'
All the way to Nassau,seeing Atlantis from the air.
Makes us imagine the way the Mythical'Atlantis' might look.
All Towers and Palaces for ancient Holy Men and Priests.
So different from the Island wher we lived ten years.
Thinking our Island would always be'ours'calmed our fears.
Now it is just a memory from long ago'Tear'
You never can go back,pictured our fears.
We will never regret a moment of our Island lives.
Eight children,bare foot,Son kissed,hair bleached
in Paradise!