Ballahoo or who?
That’s the myth of Lougarou,
With his gentle rattling like that of crackling firewood
On galvanised roofs
from Beausejour right across to Carriacou!
Ballahoo or who?
That’s the myth of Lougarou;
Untaunted by the incensed disinfectant house,
Or the dimmed oil lamp, reflecting the altar with candle and crucifix!
Ballahoo or who?
That’s the myth of Lougarou;
Rousing folks from slumber
And in their state of semi-unconsciousness
he leaves a ‘sucking’ fleshy seal,
departing before the cockerel sings his morning doodle-doo!
Ballahoo or who?
That the myth of Lougarou;
With the welcomed dawn revealing a fleshy bruise
the purple colour of boiled moonshine yam!
So, who is the Lougarou?
You may have to ask the nightly manicou.
And the myth of Lougarou, is enough to put me off my calabash bowl of callaloo and coucou!
Written by Genevieve Jourdaine - Not to be use without permission - only to be read on GoGouyave Forum site.
