Dear one, when I recall
how hot an ting this August did
and den wid all de other nameless ting it had
in all this covid 
You be most welcome den.

I must admit it had me fraid.

Who did not fraid? I ask myself,
and not a soul to hold onto.
So love had to be said
and comfort taken where it will.

And you know how we mout does don't have cover.

Thou shalt not covet they neighbour’s ox—

You! Even though the ox look good, I mean, real good—

It healthy, it healthy, it healthy!

When the sun do so and hit it

The brown skin does turn gold

And de muscles underneat de skin it lean lean,

And de meat it clean clean—

I tell you it nice it nice it nice! 

As Donna used to say.

Keep me from coveting my neighbour’s ox, cause 

That ox covetous

And I weak.  Ohhhh….

Dear God:

This is me.  I know you remember. I am the one with the bipolar grey.  I will get straight to the point (we is say straight to the pint in Bajan.  At least my Dad who as you know is now dead (I miss him so) uses to say).  But to get straight back to the pint: sometimes I feel I miss your direction and guidance, whichin   I always saying an nobody ent telling me back so.   You Know/ “Guidance” though.