Dinan Haws was a famous logger
And a cattle farmer eke was he
Of a highway town called Soesdyke
Upon the brown Demerara so shiny.
“Phillip,” said he unto his son,
“You must see that my will is done.
Mighty trees have I felled full many
As good an axeman, or better than any.
“In my days up in the Sand Hills
And in the bend at San Souci
I was as powerful a woodsman
And farmer as my father Bandi.
“I have divided my property
Equally amongst my progeny.
I am going to take it easy
Now. I just want to be free.
“My son, I don't have to tell you
That this terrible curse is on me
I carry the mark of the logger
Something that none should see.”
“Some people know that you
Get swollen now and then
But none dare laugh at you.
For sons you have full ten.
It behooves this community
To be extra nice to you
Because we employ them all
You know this to be true.”
So it worked out, poor villagers
They made not a single sound
They respected the old boss, and
Never mentioned his mound.
Dinan Haws lived in ease and
Contentment for many a year
But as Fate would have it he
Fell into a self-made snare.
Now Dinan loved nature
And was a man of the soil
He was ever close to nature
Whether in rest or toil.
He loved the trees that
He used to fell and haul
The water, waves, and sky
Much he loved them all.
Upon one moonlit evening
Dinan took a stroll by the wall.
He was gazing at the new moon
When suddenly he got a call.
So squatting down over the
Water he let his bullets flow
And when nature was satisfied
He attempted to get up and go.
O vile misfortune! Pure bad luck!
Poor old Dinan! He was stuck!
Unable to rise, and unable to go
He tried for ten minutes or so.
Now strange tales came to his mind
Of mermaids basking in moonshine
And combing out long golden hair
Sitting on the warm sea walls bare.
Maybe because of glazed sight
From staring at the golden light
He sat upon her hair this night
All would agree, a terrible slight.
And now in an almighty surge
She possessed herself of his orb
And every time he felt the urge
To rise, the mermaid gave him curb.
Shouts could be heard from the road
And extremely loud they echoed
Dinan screamed in such a mode
That the mermaid released his load.
– Etwaria R. Singh
New York City, 2009
So here I am going for my daily walk alone
And as usual minding business of my own
I was going on one of my morning walks
Amidst the singing of the robins and larks
And I hear them sing, birds all mine
Many happy tunes in bright sunshine
All cheerful and gamboling all for me
Bouncing from branches for all to see
Robins and thrushes and cardinals
I know them for they are my pals
I recognize him with his red beautiful cap
And Mr. Woodpecker with his tap tap tap
They're talking to each other saying He's coming!
Our friend is coming! as I shyly kept on strolling
That's me by the way
I know what they say
On roof tops, stems and in trees
Sweet music in the morning breeze
One so wicked flew past deftly
Singing as he passed by me
As if he wanted to make a deposit
And by that I do mean bird shit
On my head as I ducked along
And went by laughingly in song
Then I saw it sitting there
I stopped and I stared
Neatly in the crack of the walkway
Tucked away with some dried hay
I came face to face, can't believe it, WOW!
A bloody scallywag was in our area now
I took a fine stick and uprooted it out
I wanted to find out who was this lout
Who left his cigarette stub on the sidewalk
Shocked and dumbfounded I couldn't talk
The whole neighbourhood was alarmed
We would not to allowed to be harmed
All around was spic and span
All for this scallywag of a man
So now us all birds and man are looking out
When you see this culprit give me a shout
– Norman Datt
Toronto
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