"Anancy: Weaver of Tales, Master of Tricks"

By Annmarie Cephas

In a world where wonder weaves the skies,

One sly soul always claims the prize.

He bends the rules with spider thread,

Outwits the wise, leaps far ahead—

Anancy is his name.

He dances through each daring tale,

A whisper on the village trail.

With Afro-Caribbean flair,

He charms, he schemes, he sets the snare—

A trickster crowned in flame.

They question how he dares so much,

His schemes, his spins, his magic touch.

Some scoff, some frown, yet still confess—

He weaves success from tangled mess,

A king without a throne.

Hail him in this fabled rhyme,

Born of Africa, shaped by time.

He crossed the sea on waves of lore,

A spider steeped in myths of yore,

His stories blaze and roam.

By Annmarie Cephas