Sun-kissed epidermis bakes In the isle oven where hues Of rising pones respond And cultivate to the struggles of heat. This toasted layer had no fixed recipe! History, the housewife mixed and blended Until a smooth flowing, lump-free batter was produced. Chocolates grown beyond The Middle Passage with a dash of baking flour Sprinkled from the origin of the Triangle's first leg is left to simmer for centuries of burns and anguish. Yet, the oven knob clicks in 62! Heat no more?.. and in this the 468th year * The pastry is baked! Sun-toasted! Sun-burnt! Sun-kissed! The passionate kiss of identity which mother history has bestowed upon my island Creole lips. After all, I'm uniquely Jamaican. *from 1494 (when Jamaica first fell into the hands of colonial rule under the Spanish) to independence in 1962, it was a period of 468 years of colonialism.