Sunday Night in Punta Gorda, by Roger Read

Bars line the road on the beach.
Revellers drinking and talking.
Sitting catching up with family and passing friends walking.
A night of dancing they search.
Music level at a screech.
Drowning out coherent speech.

Fiesta and bands in full swing.
Many partyers in full bling.
Base ball caps and chains of gold .
Bottle in hand,  drinking and smoking.
Jeans and track suits.
Impressive sight to behold.

Reggae,  punta and bachata.
Music thumpa thumpa !
Friendly fist bump bumps.
Bodies gyrating and swinging.
Bum bums wiggling.
Amorous embraces and squeezing.
Scent of smoke and puff mingling.

Everyone out for a good time.
Forget the worries of the day.
Have a Corona and lime.
Barena, Salva Vida or Tequila.
Just want to have fun and play.
Escape strife and complexity.

Then in the evening a fight.
Everyone takes flight.
Police Nationale arrive.
Flashing blues and white.
Stony uniforms and faces.
Guns at the ready.
To keep the situation steady.

Police close the bars for ten.
Everyone in uproar.
Shouting we want more.
Police don’t listen.
Road blocked with heavy traffic.
People trying to get out, go home and get indoor.

Police checkpoint for drivers.
Torch in your eye.
Driving licence and ID !
Can’t find them. Panic !
He sees I’m a gringo.
Can’t be bothered.
Waves me by.
Lucky as I don’t speak the lingo.

Passengers breathe a sigh of relief.
Thank you God !
This increases our belief.
As we really didn’t need the extra grief.
Still had a good time.
Full moon making it all the more sublime.
So an early bedtime !

Roger P. Read
Punta Gorda.
Roatan.
12/01/2020 

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