This mass of
water
On the
west-side border
Has been our
Godfather
Three, four,
score years or more
So far back as
we can remember
I do recall,
it was only yesterday
Our granddad
in his last hour
Motioning we
never ever
As much as
dare to start to picture
To break asunder
Our merger with
the water
For he’s our
protector
From the
whims of the Vandals and the Visigoths
Across the
water
Over our
dominions
Here and
yonder
His wings
hover
He’s for sure
Our bread provider
Our raison d’être together
Our day-to-day
oxygen
And our number
one friend
In our hour of
need.
And this is our
hour of need
And now all
Water does is to recede
His flow
bathes no more
Our cliffs
and shores
Nor has His
ebb in His retreat
Taken leave
of our dad
Out of
protocol
Or merely in
honor
Of our just gone
by
Golden
jubilee.
Ali H. Raddaoui
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