A Collection of Poems
by
Laura Richardson |
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CARIBBEAN
CORNUCOPIA
Pass through the portal of passion,
poured into sweet paradise.
Taste in Caribbean fashion,
sugar-filled sun-dipped delights!
Fanciful ornaments sway merrily on trees.Red pomegranates dance to the breeze..
Yellow passion fruits drop in the shade,
for morningside gathering when Maracuja is made.
Tall island cane harvests
boil down to molasses,
while brown sugar ferments to
put rum in our glasses.
Guava and Belle Apples stewed gold in a pot,
dressed over cold ice cream, best served when still hot!
Mangoes, bananas, star apples, papaya,
sweet delectables soak, bottled, to flavor run's fire.
The twittering and buzzing of birds and the bees,
busily gathering to sow tiny seeds,
as tropical pleasures birth in the sun,
the flowers of life have again just begun.
Paintings by Roland Richardson
Poem by Laura Richardson
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"Back Street Phillipsburg"
35" x 51" Original Plein Air Oil on Canvas
Genealogy
Great Grandfather Lake had
skin gold like the Gods,
making his children like
little seedpods.
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A hundred they say
when the count was all told,
with brown-colored women
once gathered and sold.
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He loved each one sweetly.
They prospered a race,
of Caribes and Africans,
whose magical trace left
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Mamie Mahto and Miss Olive,
then like Noah's girls,
multiplied,
blessed by the dove.
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One bore nine babes,
The other birthed ten,
To hard-working, intelligent
Caribbean men.
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A sea captain, Hildevert.
Gaston, grand architect,
had a love for their land
that they'd never neglect.
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Like Great Grandfather George,
whom I met just one week,
I remember in reverance
with this story I speak.
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-Poem by Laura Richardson inspired by her husband, Sir Roland Richardson's story of his Great Grandfather George Lake. Mr. Lake was a plantation owner on Anguilla during the early 1900's.
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"Marigot Courtyard Garden" Original "Plein Air" Oil on Canvas
Marigot Courtyard Garden
Her knight in shining armor
rode centuries ago.
Now golden chalice fill their cups
with morning's early glow
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Hooves echo in her garden,
rings line the stone-laid walls,
built by an ancient garrison
to secure their tropic stalls.
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The King's last fort, his island gem,
links Louis with his past,
while lineage was woven through
their multi-layer caste.
"Marigot Inner Courtyard Garden"
Madame cleans fresh fish for lunch,
sauce simmers on the fire.
Her gentlemen will gather
for her gift, then soon retire.
-These stories told remind us
Of souls who passed before,
While many quiet twilights
shadows dance beneath closed doors…
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Painting by Roland Richardson; Poem and Photos by Laura Richardson
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"Marigot Courtyard Garden"
#6 rue de la Republique, Marigot, St. Martin
Present home to Roland Richardson Gallery, this courtyard dates back to the late 1700's when Roland's ancestor, knighted Sieur de Durat, was commissioned by Louis XVI to build Fort Louis on his French West Indian territory, St. Martin. All the stone masonry for this ancient garrison still stands in the gallery courtyard. The ill-fated king was beheaded soon after at the start of the French revolution, and Roland's ancestors were destined never to return to their homeland in France. Roland's father, Louis Richardson, at 83 years old, has enjoyed his lunch in this garden, daily for over fifty years, prepared by his lovely wife, Cynthie.
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Home Sweet Créole Home
This little house's splendor
speaks many years of love.
Its life is but a stream of lives
all nurtured from above.
White gingerbread and fancy blocks
That dance amidst the light
throw shadowed patterns of her charm
to everyone's delight.
With memories of small horses
rocking playfully young ones,
and mothers cooking dinners
long before the set of sun.
Each portal brings another breeze
where elsewhere air stands still,
and curtains whisper peacefully
against her windowsill.
Tamarind trees in fields of grass,
sheep grazing make her fence.
Scattered seeds born randomly,
roots branching ever since.
This house holds firm historic soil
Whose land flowed to the sea,
When natural ponds brought life for food
And fed necessity.
Her many Créole shutters
protect through reckless rains,
Then open wide to touch the sun,
past turbulence, through change.-
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Poem by Laura Richardson
"The Artist's Home" watercolor by Roland Richardson
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Red Umbrella
Look close my love as you behold
the patterns of the day unfold.
A simple purpose underlies
the fleeting journey of our lives.
The blossoms beacon just one day,
and spiders spin without delay.
The birds repeat amidst the leaves
their unique chants and melodies.
As rain spills forth from swollen skies
in sync an earthborn seed replies.
What better reason for the trees
to stretch their limbs for all of these?
Poem by Laura Richardson
Red Umbrella giclee on paper by Roland Richardson |
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