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Jamaica fare

she gave me rest
my cinnamon girl
in cushioned repose
telling me tales
as the high masts
of the seagoing clipper
on her walls
every sailor
tethered there
on her long lines
Jamaica fare
steel drum and ganja
rhythm divine
in the darkness
she would whistle
the harder they come
the harder they fall
one and all
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 26
About this poem:
Cinnamon girl..

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Comments (3)

salamunaonline today!
"Ten silver saxes
A bass with a bow
The drummer relaxes
And waits between shows
For his cinnamon girl"
good done Ocean. Lily head banger
Making me wonder is this written from a wish to go there or is it an account of your Caribbean holiday.
Either way thanks for sharing.

Regards Mick,

Oceanzestonline now!
:) mere fantasy Mick

Like your lines Lily
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