Effie's First Poem: In the Style of Daniel Defoe

It is now that I realize I may have been the First of Negro women, or women, as a Matter of fact, to released from confined cages, to witness such Fortunate circumstances; I expect that I won’t be the last. I was born Black in the year 1702. Likewise to my mother, Her mother, her mother Before, by none other than the Maker’s hand viz. the dark Color of my skin, not depth of skill nor mind, determined my position in Society. I enter’d this world in an Apron; short, white, Yellow-stained absent of lace, tho’ sturdy through three generations, and my grandmother’s name, Edna, etch’d within the right Bottom corner. Those four characters created through Black lace obtained from the alarmingly kind Jewish neighbor of the Family we served; Edna, my gradmother, as I have already stated, with only enough lace for her name, embroider’d her name, being learned in such sewing skills I have never Yearned to possess, using techniques she furnished with names such as Persian Floss and Spanish Floss.

But this being beside the Point and irrelevant to the Reader’s purpose for stumbling upon my Recounting, you must realize I was a Slave, tho’ treated as a maid, enslaved to no means of expression. As the normality of the time and the family which my family had served for several Generations, would not have it any colored being, especially a Colored female, master any skill of reading or Writing; of course, being Blessed with the infamous luck of a curious Feline or questioning child, I had encountered the readings of the Bible and various poems by my Master and his guests through the thin walls between the Kitchen pantry and the entertainment lounge. It would happen to be that We are not made to forever Depend on parents or keepers, except perhaps God, just as a bird Inevitably, tho’ freely, ventures from the comfort of his mother’s nest, and hence can feed his own body; I longed for the self-sufficieny of the bird, to be a condition my life Would have.

As many Nights I spent praying, I prayed for God’s eyes and hand, similar to Eve’s actions I acknowledge, but merely to be taught the freedom, of writing and Reading. Many nights transitioned to several months, years, the Difficulty of my lessons never abating. I lastly resorted to giving up, and ending my Training, as we do the moment a problem seems too challenging for the brain’s Worth. August 24 of 1721, I happened upon the Jewish Neighbor in front, while staring into Daniel’s Lion Den, thanks be to God for that kindred man, who was called Henry. Still in Amazement to this very moment, Henry took it upon himself to Teach a colored Woman how to read and write simple Calligraphy. Following the conclusion of my lessons, which Held the duration of a meager Six weeks, by God’s work no less, Henry led me to the Edge of the bird’s nest as I sat below to write Poetry. My writing instrument, hardly half a centimeater in circumference, but decorated with a fine Fowl’s feather of which the name I now Cannot recall, paused momentarily as I near’d the poem’s conclusion, scarcely fifteen Lines, along side the end of my Beginning as a free mind. The anxiousness of my Heartbeat, the precise measurement an insignificant detail, Frighten’d me while I signed in nearly perfect English calligraphy, Effie. Thus, in this State of mind, I experience’d a freedom to express Howsoever I chose through the infinite Universe beheld on paper, without restriction or limit. We, as Creatures at the hand of God are set by those Bounds God presents, but not Humans. It was then in that Moment I realized that my very Heart thrived in the composing of this Piece of poetry, my very Soul thank’d God for freedom amongst my Entrapment and I wrote:

This poem has Been henceforth complet’d by Effie,

the first poem of this Colored woman.

Provided by GOD and this Jewish man Henry.