La ventille oh cecelia

Above the deep water harbour gazing

Port-of-Spain bustling at her feet.

La Ventille's brief is quite amazing

With huddled dwellings quaint and neat.

Drive up the twisted gradient sloping

About thirty-six geomet degrees.

The wide-eyed visitor goes up hoping

To enjoy the gentle breeze.

In cricket's island territories

The command of such a view

Is held by mortgage dignitaries;

Not simple folks like me or you.

La Ventille is indeed attractive

From its humble point of view;

Not hoity toity interactive

For fez children who are new.

This hilly upper-city starter

For Caribbean immigrants;

Who come by sloop to hawk and barter

But take up dual residence.

Sometimes it's tuneful hyperactive

While Desperadoes basemen grumble.

At other times it's counteractive

When young-to-die gang members crumble.

La Ventille's yearly days of reverence

Bring hooded pilgrims to the shrine.

From wine and sin some seek repentance

Through Lady Fatima's holy sign.

Their contrite rosaries and novenas

Could spare misguided wayward thugs

From police summons or subpoenas,

Or temper's high strung rock or slug.

First generation head-tied hawkers'

Young offspring really cannot cope

With gold-toothed dealers and fast talkers.

At risk they venture out on hope.

Their struggle after such arrival

Is really pitted against time,

'til seeking guaranteed survival

 tempts them slowly into crime,

The long time scores of law-abiders

Who live on tamboo-bamboo hill,

Engulfed by old and new free-riders

Are gently law-abiding still.

They need expert communicators

To remind us they exist.

T'would help La Ventille's given image;

And give Ma. Placide's hill some twist.