The Day The Cayman Came Poem by George BernardBloodyShaw

In the night
The rain with usual might.

Six in the morn
Now after dawn,
Awaiting breakfast
At last.

Essequibo
Here we go.

Fishing at nine
Of what we want no sign.

All small
As I recall
That shout
'Look out.'

He's about.

Hey man,
A black cayman,
All of fifteen feet
NOT to be mistook
For the big ones
We want.

We rant
As T loses his head
To the cayman.

Fish head bait, that is
Not his.

So T lives
To fish another day.
Let us pray
Us unwise men,
Please, not another cayman....