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Book Review InformationMy Pride of Barbados
by:
Arthur Zulu
(To my futurity wife)
Flowers. Only God knows how the earth would-be have been without them. Mayhap colorless. Therefore the Great Creative person seeing how unbeautiful the earth would-be have looked like in the absence of these plants, distinct to add them as a finishing stroke in his canvas. So God said: “Let there be flowers.” And there were flowers. And God looked and saw that they were really good.
Very good? Really good! Because flowers are beautiful things, they have delighted all creation. Birds and insects won’t leave them alone. Several have died ingestion their nectar. Wild animals gaze at these masterpieces of creation. And humans have put them to better uses as gifts and objects of decoration in elect places.
But God was not choosey once
he beady the earth with these plants. Flowers can be found everywhere: on volcanic peaks (the Tower of jewels in Canary islands); in the Alps and Mountain chain (the Carline thistles); in the wild (the English iris); on mountain crack (the mountain houseleek or the better name, live-forever); in tropical forests (the Bromeliads); in the deserts (the primroses and lilacs of Death Valley, California); on the sea (the lotus). And in whatsoever
climate you find them, they are a beauty to behold.
Because of this, women have increased
their beauty by wearing a garland of flowers on their heads or about their necks—from the omnipresent Mallow
flower to the majestic Rose flower. But flowers have vie
dishonourable roles too. Like what?
It is common to send a bouquet of flowers to beloved ones. And women have been wooed and won by them. Flowers with names like Queen of the night and Morning-glory activity magic. On the contrary, flowers have been used to send negative messages by alienated lovers to one another. In this notorious
group are Touch-me-not and Forget-me-not. God didn’t think of such roles once
he created them.
Neither did he consider them as national symbols. The beautiful narcissus pseudonarcissus or the musical long name, daffodowndilly, has become the national symbol of Wales. Not the whales of the sea but Wales the republic. Then kindred of the former is purported for swallowing run-away prophets. Ask Jonah. But Wales, the nation, is not alone in this respect. Which land comes next?
Barbados, the tourists’ paradise, popular for her pristine encompassing and lovely beaches. Far-famed for her cordial reception and rich culture. None of these, however, has popularized this island more than a simple flower—the Pride of Barbados.
What name, Pride of Barbados! If you are in temperate lands, you may not live to see this flower. Even as if you waited for 76 years. You strength
only see Halley’s Comet—that is if you can cheat death. For none sees it twice. Mark Brace didn’t. Pride of Barbados is a tropical flower. So you have to travel to the land of bumper sunshine to lay eyes on it. What if you live in the tropical climate but are yet to see this flower?
Then let me show you the flower as we walk in your garden. Sorry, it isn’t there. The 10 to 15 feet Dwarf Poinciana or Flower Fence, which blooms all year round, could be found in your fence. We see many an flowers as we inspect your fence. But look at the fiery red or yellow one with five petals and yellow margins whose fifth flower petal is smaller than the else four. As you examine the flower, be evocative of its prickly branches. You wish notice that it has large leaves with many an small leaflets. You wish likewise find out that each flower is just about 11/2 inches across with five sepals. You wish equally learn that the ten stamens—with colored filaments and anthers at the tips—are long and that pistils project from the center of the flower. You have seen the Pride of Barbados! The red variety appears on the Barbados Coat of Arms and is the National flower of Barbados. But which is your favorite flower?
We seem to equate our better flower to a beloved one. Consider this: if you have a lover, to what would-be you compare her? A Morning rose or a sun flower? For sure not a bramble. Or a thorn tree.
But there lived women in times past, who were woody plant and thorn trees. And they still live today. God deliver thee from their hands. And may the nice Lord not give me thorns and brambles.
Give me not Samson’s bride who wish give my riddles to my detractors. Or a shrewish Delilah that would-be lay bare the private secret of my success and bring me to an untimely grave. But do give me a woman with the perseverance of Juliet and sensibility of Abigail.
Give me not Agememnon’s wife, the unfaithful Klytaimestra, who dead
the individual for the love of Aigisthos. But give me Penelope, girl of Ikarios, and tenacious better half of the more loveable man, Odysseus.
Give me not a wicked Jezebel the killer of notional foes, or a Marozia, Woman Senatrix of Rome, killer of popes and “holy men.” But give me a godly lady like the beautiful Queen Esther of Susa—shapely like a sculptor’s handiwork, skin like cinnamon, eyes like the dove’s and feet like the gazelle’s. And Roman deity
grant me the power to compose sweet poems for fair maiden.
Give me not Helen of troy or a Lucretia, the causes of many an fights and sorrows. Rather give me a Queen Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen, a woman hard to woo by men. Or a La Gioconda—the stately Anglesea island Lisa with the enchanting smile.
I do not desire a Queen of Sheba, the loaded visitant of wise Solomon, who lacking honor concluded up on the bed of the lustful king. But give me the shepherd boy’s wife, the Shulammite, “a garden barred,” “a spring sealed up,” and “a wall,” with “breasts like towers,” rejection “circlets of gold” and “studs of silver.” May her breasts like a cluster of pomegranates, continue to tickle me till my dying day. Let her really bosom delight my soul from summer to spring and from time of year
to winter.
May I be in the ecstasy once
she plants her sweet lips on mine as I look into her dreamy eyes. Let her angelic fingers caress my bones as we lay by the fireside in winter confirming our love to each other. May her rich mellisonant voice arouse my spirit and do my day.
Let her—my Penelope, my Juliet, my Abigail—be beside me in my sleeping and waking hours. May she—my Esther, my Elizabeth, my Anglesea island Lisa, my Shulammite—be with me in fair and in bad weather.
Let her be the majestic flower in the fence of my country home.
Let her be the flower of all seasons—purveyor of joy, harbinger of happiness.
Let her be my forever red and yellow petals— yellow for sun rise, red for sunset— unfailing as the sun.
Let her, even as she—my love, my life—be the pride of paradisaic islands in far away waters.
Let her be my Pride of Barbados!
(GIVE THIS ESSAY AND A BUNCH OF MY PRIDE OF BARBADOS TO THE Honey WOMAN IN YOUR LIFE)
Arthur Zulu is an editor, book reviewer, and publicized
author. The debatable writer gives FREE helps to young writers in editing, ghost writing, reviewing, and business enterprise their works.
For his works and more details, goto:
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Just just about the Author
Arthur Zulu is an editor, book reviewer, and publicized
author.
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