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Tuesday, November 27 2012

Sometimes a story is best told succinctly.

When I first visited St. Barts in 1994, I was there for a relatively short time, ten days surrounding Valentines.  My good friend Shannon Westerman enticed Glenn and me with stories of beautiful villas, fabulous French cuisine, amazing beaches, and a laissez-faire attitude perfect for relaxation.  Shannon was dead-on in every aspect, and we have journeyed back several times since then.

During that first trip, I was exposed to such an explosion of sights, sounds, smells, contrasts, and sensations, that I got up before dawn one morning and composed a poem—a distillation of my experience.

Shannon, his partner, Tim Ancona, Glenn, and I rented a beautiful villa and had the time of our lives.  Here’s the poem.

St. Barts

by Jody Zimmerman

Dusty, fire-rock, earth-smell isle.

Dotted green, carved down

To sand-lipped bays with turquoise tongues.

A traveler’s passion.

Sun-braised, saline dryness,

Splattered by windy rain.

Colors explode.

Hummingbirds dart.

Cocks crow.

Cats cry.

Begging, bleating goats resound.

Spider-strung cacti comb

The wind sculpting scrubby trees.

The legacy stands amid

Cool, fresh-water promises.

Cliff climbing villas

Cling to something exquisite.

I hope you enjoyed the poem.   Please feel free to give me your feedback.

I have posted a few photographs from that trip.  They are old and faded, but the memories are not.

Our villa, Les Petits Pois, in the village of Colombier

The view from our villa

A tree sculpted by the trade winds

The elegant port city, Gustavia

Beautiful Beach

Shannon, Jody, & Glenn at Grande Saline Beach

Tim & Shannon near our villa

Posted by: By Jody AT 10:12 am   |  Permalink   |  0 Comments  |  Email
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