Jamaican Poetry: Hurricane, Little Boy Dean

By: Denise N. Fyffe.
Copyright © 2012, Poetess Defy, Denise N. Fyffe

Once there was a little boy Dean,
Who grew to be quite mean;
He thought, I am a Cat 4,
I can test and blow down any door.
He ran threw the Caribbean fast and hard,
Creating devastation and ripping up yards.

Little boy Dean spotted a jewel in the bright sunlight,
A garden named Jamaica,
He wanted to give a fright.
When time came and Dean drew near,
He spotted a couple kids of the Angels gang.
They denied him access to destroy,
And told him Jamaica was no little boy’s toy.

Little boy Dean grumbled and kept well south,
He tried but could not get round about,
Dean saw Cayman and thought this would do,
But it had a gang there too.
On further, he saw the Yucatan Peninsula,
Here he ravaged and raged,
Feeling much better.