Claude McKay

(15 September 1889 – 22 May 1948 / Clarendon)

The Spanish Needle - Poem by Claude McKay

Lovely dainty Spanish needle
With your yellow flower and white,
Dew bedecked and softly sleeping,
Do you think of me to-night?

Shadowed by the spreading mango,
Nodding o'er the rippling stream,
Tell me, dear plant of my childhood,
Do you of the exile dream?

Do you see me by the brook's side
Catching crayfish 'neath the stone,
As you did the day you whispered:
Leave the harmless dears alone?

Do you see me in the meadow
Coming from the woodland spring
With a bamboo on my shoulder
And a pail slung from a string?

Do you see me all expectant
Lying in an orange grove,
While the swee-swees sing above me,
Waiting for my elf-eyed love?

Lovely dainty Spanish needle,
Source to me of sweet delight,
In your far-off sunny southland
Do you dream of me to-night?


Comments about The Spanish Needle by Claude McKay

  • Rookie Michael James (1/7/2014 5:51:00 PM)

    so cool, my wife Dawn's fave poem (other than those written by me...lol)
    Lest we forget. RIP JFK and JFK Jr.

    “But For The Rain”
    By Michael James

    -BUT FOR THE RAIN (repeat at the -)
    -A nation would be changed, A prince would be the same.
    A roof would save a life, Doubts would save the strife.
    -On a damp November morning, A nation wouldn’t be mourning.
    An Agent wouldn’t feel the guilt, A building window would not be tilt.
    -A princess wouldn’t grieve, A prosperous nation’s hope conceived.
    Madmen would remain silent, A million hearts would not be rent.
    -A conspiracy would not be theory, Anger would not burn into fury.
    Egos wouldn’t bubble to the top, In a dark basement POP POP POP!
    -Children would have their father, In mournful state, thousands would not gather.
    America’s royalty torn asunder, God’s vengeance brimstone and thunder.
    -Fifty years have come and past, Still no answers to questions asked.
    In the hearts of many, he still lives, All he asked us was to give!
    -The rise of tyranny of evil men, Rears its ugly head again and again.
    Documents sealed for a hundred years, Till all who cared are themselves lost to tears.
    -He will always be our President, We now wonder where the kindness went.
    A solid roof on top of a limousine, A king would still live to love his queen.
    -The life of JFK would be spared, His love and compassion for all would be shared.
    Who knows what great things he’d have did, His life would’ve been spared in a car with a lid.
    -A twist of sunshine, a change of plans, A car with no roof, an open tin can.
    He asked us to ask what WE can do, His message through time, is now passed onto YOU!
    https: //www.facebook.com/michael.james.9275 (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: childhood, dream, flower, spring, alone, night, sleep



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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