"Maine Step Son" Poem

Our Nigerian friend, Philip Oyok, is a writer and a poet. He just sent this touching poem about his recent visit to Maine-

Maine Step Son

I have a picture in my mind of Maine, 

And I feel it's a picture that's never going to wash away 

Ever till the day the Lord takes me away:

Walking down the streets of Bath

Sitting by the riverside

Staring out at the Carlton Bridge

The sight of the Bath Iron Works building the ships

While on the river, luxury boats went by and by.

Walking down the streets

Ogling the old homes, picturing the lives of the old folks

Of past sea captains and boat builders and Maine-ish wives

Proud of the New World they had

Were they happy?

Were they proud?

There's a quietude here I never discovered elsewhere:

Old folks shuffling by

Some waving a hand, going Maine-ish when they spoke: "Hi stranger. Care for a bee-ah?"

Some foreign it sounded to my ears

I often had to laugh and cry

At the sound of their happiness

At the sound of their years.

Driving through Woolwich

Admiring the rich, old homes out on Pleasant Cove

Venturing into a Borders' shop in Brunswick

Too bad their doors won't stay open for long;

The splendour of the Androscoggin River,

Stopping at a drive-in to munch on lobster roll

Listening to Eagles on the radio

'Take it easy' while we cruise along the turnpike road.

Entering Cape Elizabeth

Stopping to see the famous light house at Fort William's Park

Looking at the giant elm trees in Sebago Lake

The water so blue, looking invitingly new

Old and the young jumping into the water

The zenith of summer

We fry marshmallows and eat them with chocolate

Being around a family, the love permeates the tide. 

 

We visit the Wildlife Park

Take pictures standing beside a carved out bear just before seeing the live ones

The eagles all stay quite in their caged homes

Turtles bask in the shade away from the sun

Look! There's a moose, acting like we aren't even there

A porcupine sticks it head out of its hole, but hurries back inside

A trail of kids walk by, marveling the sight.

Sitting in front of the bath City Hall

watching tourists snap photos

buying ice cream and listening to the quite music of the street

the air tingled my nostrils

from Granite Street, the wind ruffles the hairs on my skin

Since arriving here, my glands hardly broke a sweat

Though my sleeping hour overdue, sweetest dreams always came too soon.

 

 

The evening comes but late

We sit out in the front porch, feeding on lobster

I wear an apron on, knife and fork in my hand

Grinning at the camera

Moments such as these are forever.

It is too late to answer the question

But I will return again

This land, this part of the world

Will be a second home

This beauty, I take home with me in pictures

In dreams ... 

This Maine state of mind.