Creole Soul

Island crayfish swim in hot sauce
Conch salad sandwiches served at noon
Palm trees sway while boats are tossed
On gentle waves in quiet lagoons

I was born with a Creole soul
Bubbling over like a lobster pot
Brine soaked sand where whitecaps roll
Spitting in fire like a Pelee god

The pirate in my bloody dreams
Longs for the blue of open sea
Below the port of New Orleans
Into the land of Caribbees

Every childhood dream I had
Dolphins swam round coral reefs
From Bahamas to Trinidad
Set to shore on black sand beach

Umbrella drinks and fat cigars
Sun browned men in Panama hats
Ceiling fans stir heavy air
Peacock chairs where tourists sat

Bogey and Bacall in Martinique
Hemmingway’s, To Have and Have Not
Echoes Calypso steel drum beats
Where air and blood both run hot

Cape jasmine and orange blossom
Rain forest jungles high in the hills
Natives worship the sacred mountain
The volcano’s voice is silent and still

I was born with a Creole soul;
My heart filled with island feelings
Reggae rolls from the radio
I go drifting in the Caribbean