Henrietta Marie

Pleasant childhood memories are interrupted by a disturbing historical vision.

In my dream, I am a child, playing on the beach.

The air is warm and humid, as the waves of the Atlantic roll to shore.
Briny and warm, the water feels soothing to my feet, ankles, calves, and knees.
The sun displays its affection for me, turning my skin from cinnamon, to sienna, then to mahogany.
In my pink bathing suit, I rush to greet a frothy wave, as it tumbles gracefully to shore.

Clouds float by, turning the blue sky grey.
On the horizon is a massive ship, of an ancient design, a schooner.
She floats, coming closer and closer to shore.  She captivates me; mouth open, I stare at her.
Christened “Henrietta Marie,” she is a slave ship.  A vessel designed to hold a living human cargo, on wooden shelves, like canned fish.   I recognize her from my history book.
Henrietta Marie floats imperiously, her passengers immersed in agony and humiliation.  
She is gloriously gruesome.

 

Copyright 2006

 

By Angeline Bandon-Bibum

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

A haunting dream or a gruesome scream...Bravo

[zainul]

The dream haunts many people like you wherever slave trade was run by such vessel like Henrietta Marie.
The poem is an epic piece that speaks like a compendium.
Great write.
Congratulations,Angeline!!!

[Angeline Bandon-Bibum]

Your review is much appreciated.
Thank you!!

[zainul]

You are welcome