BARBADOS
Breakers of prancing, flouncing, laundry blue
Foam into suds upon a green-trimmed beach
Spotless as linen: these rare waters leach
From proper sand the slightest ugly hue.
Black, ape-like boatmen block the pleasant view,
Jabbering admirals, flat of skull and speech,
Magnificently condescending, each
Granting perfection to his craft and crew.
Virtues and charms as peerless constitute
The core of every claim made every hour
By true Barbadians for their land, sea, sun—
Their own worth first, Time's quintessential flower—
Leaving a modicum of good repute
For guests like Nelson and [[Author:George Washington}}.
{{c|ST. GEORGE'S, GRENADA]]
This is too rare, too lovely, to be fact!
Some wandering Vermeer who knew his East
Painted it on glazed celadon, a feast
Of lights and shadows in one swift sure act:
Walls honey-stippled, roofs a cataphract
Of ruddy tiles, the cassock of a priest
Raven against pale beryl silver-fleeced
Or sprayed by verdure's emerald cataract.
For thus, Grenada, I beheld you first,
Anchored within a crater-harbor's calm:
A fairy picture lingering with me still,
Ungilt, untarnished, by your best and worst—
This picture, crowned by one majestic palm
Bending to bless you from a golden hill.
