Weather Bee Mar 25 '05    Write an essay on this topic. Tweet Popular Products in Books Irene Hunt - The Lottery Rose: A Novel From $6 John Steinbeck - East Of Eden From $7 The Bottom Line A picture of the image I saw when in Haiti, 98 degrees in February. I've traveled long, I've traveled far I carried winds within my car A Chevrolet Dodge Caravan Spoke a lingua I couldn't understand I chose the route of Muddy Waters The agent wouldn't take my quarters The Airport bathroom was very clean The mob outside, the second scene The first was while descending air A bunch of mountains and a crowded share The heat stroke gently 'cross my face The dust gave mouth a bitter taste The people barely even noticed How different attitudes would approach it Yet they still wanted to beg They charged me ten dollars a head I sat within the camionette A ten gourdes that was very well spent To get me through Port-Au-Prince The media had once given me hints They said the poverty was ugly So my mind was there before I set for sea Until the images were different And the storm was change that instant Direction was revolutionized Twas circumsized by many tribes For with no leadership or aid How do these hopefuls maintain? I had to question, had to kneel and pray Because I know that this is not the only way For so many Haitians are loaded So the puzzle hasn't been decoded I was born to see the drama And the heart of it is Karma Because I know what it's done for my ancestors I am supposed to give in return Maybe someday they'll be free loves Though they've been free for 201 I can see it in their eyes These hopefuls have a sense of pride And the beauty of the land itself The trees and seas and birds The animals that roam around The crops that grow upon the mount It's no surprise that milk and honey Was what I took from land behind me And upon this plane departing My heart has definitely been charging The weather bee gave me a tan Stung me with memories of the land From 98 degrees in February To 16, scars that made me see That beauty is within the eye of the beholder The weather bee was on my shoulder And now the portrait in 1,000 words Haiti was the first

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