Jamaica Will Always Be My Island Paradise

In a land far away that isn't my home

I'm awakened by a beautiful symphony

The mournful sounds of the wind as it passes vigorously through the trees

And the answering rustling of the leaves

It shares my sadness on this Day

A wondrous sound, though it may be

It fills me with nostalgia

For the sound and taste of my Island home

Of those lazy Days of Summer's old

Of meandering rivers filled to overflowing

That reaches across and down the rocky hillside to Sally spring

Of muddy banks where janga and mudfish hides

To the deep rocky riverbed of plunkit hole

That flows and wraps itself around

And through open fields of long blade grass

With maywah trees protecting its banks

The tasty sweet pea-like pods that wash downstream

Its name long ago, forgotten

Women washing clothes by hand on the banks

And laughter and voices of Children at play

As naked they yelled and frolicked noisily

Out in the open along the stream

Where wild flowers of yellow, pink and white

Poppies of red spring into colors amidst Cow-itch too

Where jackfruit, rose apple and neesberry grew

And beneath the soil yam and cassava hid

And breadfruit hang heavy from branches overhead

Where oranges and grapefruit lined green fields

The smell of the summer rose and hibiscus in bloom

And the bumblebee buzzing 'round

Of catching butterflies fluttering past

I long for the feel of the trade winds

That blew my frock around skinny ankles

And often signaled the coming rain

I long to turn laughing eyes towards the blue-grey of the Mountains

That kissed deep blue skies

How I long for the smell and sounds that rush through my memories

As I listen at Nights to the cricket and grasshoppers as they sang

And to see the peenie wally shining in the night skies

My eyes again drowsy with sleep

I snuggle down amidst crisp handmade sheets

The smell tickling my nose

I'm reluctant to get out of bed this Day

I'm nostalgic for my Island home so far away

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