A Sanctified Bridge – By Dmitri Allicock

A sanctified bridge

A Sanctified Bridge

By Dmitri Allicock

Deep within the realms of flickering reflections
Lives a bridge amidst life’s wondrous connections

A cherish palladium of the world of yesteryear

And sacred script of precious times held so dear

Read moreA Sanctified Bridge

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  • Rosaliene Bacchus  On February 1, 2014 at 4:15 pm

    Some bridges, like the one highlighted in your poem, are unpretentious yet provide a way across life’s treacherous waters.

  • Dmitri Allicock  On February 1, 2014 at 11:19 pm

    So true Rosaline, many bridges in the forest of my youth were no more than a log or timber precarious placed across a creek or waterway. My dear uncles went across these mossy -slippery pathways with ease despite the burden of provisions from the farm. I questioned them about making it safer to which the answer was that would only be an enticement to outsiders. I am eternally grateful to my folks for providing me with a sound bridge of appreciation for the beauty of life.

  • Patricia A Alshabazz  On February 2, 2014 at 1:07 am

    i enjoyed your post this took me waaaaaaay baaaaack but it reminds me of small days where do you find these history and culture God bless you

  • Clyde Duncan  On February 2, 2014 at 6:10 pm

    Dmitri: I am a Georgetown boy who left in my teens, so I do appreciate your postings, which leave me in a state of wonderment. I dream of what could be.

  • Dmitri Allicock  On March 10, 2014 at 10:54 pm

    Thanks guys!

  • Albert  On November 3, 2015 at 11:04 am

    I am basically a Georgetown guy who, in my youth, sometimes visited my grandparents in Corentyne. Sometimes there were no bridges but it bring back memories of my old grandmother, tying up her petticoat and crossing the water waist high, with a bundle on her head. She had to cross to get to the farmland, remained wet for most of the day gathering vegetables to cross back later.

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