Always blasting the old coastland
From Point Playa to Springland
Daily taking the beating and all
Was and is the good old Sea Wall
Firstly built by the good old Dutch
And now have some of other’s touch
Like Don Quixote she clasped the waves
Reminiscent of Guyana Arawak’s braves
With dirt and concrete so reinforced
Battling the Atlantic Ocean’s course
Eight feet below sea level still
As the foaming froth try to fill
The land with her muddy salt sea water
Standing her ground and getting stronger
Over spill sucked up by waiting crab-grass
As the sea wall looks upon this as eye-pass
And the waters shyly ebbs away
Only to be returned another day
The old man watching the brackish waters
Heedless of the local bat and ball cricketers
Waiting  for the right time and tide
To throw his cast-a-net far and wide
As a gull flitters nearby as an imp
For the discarded fish or shrimp
And life goes on as farmers forge ahead
Thinking of their crops and homestead
Not knowing how much pressure it‘d take
Or when and where the sea-wall could break

The sea-wall is alive as day is nearly closing
Some come for walks others at their choosing
Lovers holding hands and watch the sunset
True and even taboo unions try to forget
What will befall them with their confessions
For then inter-marriage could cause fractions
Partly the sea-wall is covered with graffiti
As trustful hearts keep it out of boundary
The wall can tell of broken hearts and tears
Of peers and fears which fell on deaf ears
And as you follow the sea-wall to the city
You see lovers smooching in many an alley
They are on bicycles or just standing
Looking into one another’s eyes talking
As the waters lash the sea-wall with sprays
Likewise hearts and desires are in a blaze
Looking across the sea each with  dreams
For life abroad hatching plots or schemes
Concentrating on emotions so fervent
Oblivious of all in that environment