Tobago Dave Poem by Ben Paterson

Tenuous and tormented talons droop down from the center of his crown

The beach rasta forms a smile each time he is approached which cracks from ear to ear

He holds dear what little fortune he has been blessed with

His Caribbean test he has always been blessed with

Any particular position to sit down on the beach to procrastinate from

Like the cockerel sings at dawn the rasta man turns up his tunes and lights up the holy herb

For the next few hours he puts up an internal sign that reads, please do not disturb

And the mood changes smooth like the skin on face

Two paradises marry external and internal, forever his grace