My Island

A pulse that never ceases;

the world is alive.

A creation alive like you and me.

Each morning the light sparkles

as the palms wave, look ,

look they point toward tomorrow.

Overhead the clouds gossamer white

fly to the mountain, and darken

to sacrifice themselves to give

 the rain to quench the parched

sugar cane.  The whole island waves

blue green in unison with the sea.

It waves, as the palms whisper

I love you.  Come home to me!

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