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Poem: A Journey Well-Ridden

By Fr Robert Christo

Vicar for Communications

In the golden sun of the most southern Caribbean skies,

World War II in full swing, where courage lies,

Lived a man christened CHRISTO, not Abdul,

With a bike and laughter, his heart so full.


Eighty-seven years, a life well-spent,

No education, no worry, no lament:

“If you want to live long, live a simple life,”

In simple joys, he found no strife.


From dawn’s first light to twilight’s gleam,

He chased dreams to Chaguaramas d’ Base on wheels that beam.

His bicycle, a faithful steed so true,

Carried him through deeds, both old and new.


Through Balma Tassa songs and mangrove breeze,

He found his peace ‘midst tamarind trees.

Making something from nothing, his skill renowned,

With the name EXPERIENCE, his fame was found.


Passing roti shops and Indian lanes so wide,

Sweet whistling tunes to his childhood bride.

His whistle joined Catholic hymns at midnight Mass,

Guiding his love, their bond to last.


With every mile and every ride,

He held his pride on the Catelli forklift side.

A man of warmth, with folktales so grand,

Shared jab jab whips at J’Ouvert, hand in hand.


He taught us love in purest form,

In beach days bright and through the storm.

From him, we learned what life could be,

In moments small, yet wild and free.


Though now he rests, his journey ends,

His spirit rides on, around the cemetery bends.

In every whistle and Jim Reeves ’song,

His memory lives, forever strong.


He knew the garden, each tree, each stone,

In Clarence Street, he made his home.

An engineer’s skill, a carpenter’s hand,

A ‘fix-it-upper’ who could understand.


Creative in heart, with ideas bright,

He turned broken things into pure delight.

He danced to kaiso, mauby as rum, giggled with friends,

In simple joys, his heart extends.


His wisdom shared by sandfly’s light,

Bedtime stories told deep into the lagahoo night.

“If you have fig, make fig juice,” he’d say,

Turning life’s lemons into lemonade.


So, as we scatter, hearts entwined,

We honour him, a soul so kind.

A simple man with endless pace,

Forever cherished in this place.


We buried him with a bicycle wreath,

A symbol of his life, and his ride underneath.

In every wheel and spoke, we see

A legacy of love, simplicity and creativity.