Poetry Poem by ENOCH JOHN

Poetry,
is like watching sunrise,
there is no disguise.

Poetry,
is a feeling,
that burns in my heart,
everytime she turns.

Poetry,
is just an expression,
from deep within.

Poetry,
is a power,
bubbling like a spring,
in any season.

Poetry,
is like sweet music,
mesmerizing the soul.

Poetry,
can be heard,
on the mountaintop,
down in the valley
or in the sun or rain.

Poetry,
is like the rain,
it refreshes,
and quenches the thirst.

Poetry,
is like the manna,
the fresh manna,
falling from the clouds.

Poetry,
is the rhythm of our hearts,
under clear Caribbean sky.

Poetry,
is the pure love,
growing in our hearts.

Poetry,
is the wind,
blowing in the trees,
blowing almost everywhere.

Poetry,
is the birds singing,
harping sweet melodies.

Poetry,
is motion,
like the fast-running stream.

Poetry,
is the sun and the rain,
and the tall dewey grass.

Poetry,
is a field,
a field of lovely flowers.

Poetry,
is the smell of roses,
and the beauty of the poui.

Poetry,
is that lovely woman
calling daughter Ruth,
her voice resonating,
up Laventille Hill.

Poetry,
is the graceful sway,
of the Caribbean woman.

Poetry,
is the pulsating power,
lying under black skin.

Poetry,
is the sun,
sparkling on our peoples.

Poetry,
is the pause,
the pause between our breathing.

Poetry,
is a young child growing.....

Poetry,
is the workmen in the field,
toiling for their upkeep.

Poetry,
is rising every dawn,
and praising our God.

Poetry,
is beautiful-
beautiful like the rainbow;
we're a rainbow people.

Poetry,
is like Boogsie Sharpe,
playing the tenor pan,
on a cool Trinidad night.

Poetry,
is Brian Lara,
driving through midwicket.

Poetry,
is watching the dying chords of sunset.

Poetry,
is the music of April showers,
falling on a tin roof.

Poetry,
is the water,
the voice of Maracas Falls.

Poetry,
tells of the suffering,
and deliverance of Israel.

Poetry,
it moved Miriam,
inspired her song.

Poetry,
which angels chorused,
announcing Messianic birth.

Poetry,
was in the steps of King David,
when he danced before the Lord.

Poetry,
is like the long and winding road,
it leads to somewhere.

Poetry,
is the flicker of the candle,
blowing in the wind.

Poetry,
is the voice of love,
caressing,
and endearing.

Poetry,
is the victorious shout,
resounding within the camp.

Poetry,
is like the voice upon many waters,
which breaks the cedars of Lebanon,
and discovers the forests.

Poetry,
is the baying of the hounds,
running in the woods.

Poetry,
is the pant of the chased deer.

Poetry,
is the songs of love.

Poetry,
is the songs of Zion.

Poetry,
is the song of Redemption.

Poetry,
is the praise of the saints.

Poetry,
mellows the heart,
blesses the soul,
gives utterance to the child.

Poetry,
moves the masses, inspires the revolution.

Poetry,
is the confluence,
of Ganges and Nile.

Poetry,
is the blowing dust,
the bleakness of Sahara.

Poetry,
is the sounds of Kilimanjaro.

Poetry,
is the drums of Africa.

Poetry,
is the quietness,
of Grand Etang,
or Tibet.

Poetry,
is the running Bengal tiger.

Poetry,
is the plodding clamp,
of one thousand Chinese,
in Tiananmen's morn.

Poetry,
is the Caribbean breezes,
whistling through Maracas Valley.

Poetry,
is about listening,
listening to the sounds of silence.