Echoing five-beat rhythmic patterns,
make my hips move, pitter patters.
Festive music, daydreams splatter,
misting my thoughts, with what matters.

Merengue tunes one of a kind,
hypnotic flow, moves up my spine.
African/Spanish dance entwined,
three passing tales seem to align.

One story says it came from slaves,
chained together, cutting sweet cane.
Swaying to the beats, machetes made,
dragging worn feet, to ease their pain.

Leader arrived, limping and hurt,
revolution, leg pain overt.
Villagers prayed, aches would divert,
to ease his shame, their walk swept dirt.

Others have claimed it was a treat,
confection of sugar so sweet,
enchanting dance, always upbeat,
tastebuds enjoy, cravings replete.

New world techniques, old traditions,
form a styles made for musicians.
Fun songs remove inhibitions,
lyrics provide vast compositions.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Originally Published on February 15, 2021