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The Island

So many things you've seen

So many stories long forgotten

So many deeds between

Shouting out across the bottom Beneath a ghostly twilight

Her bosom filled with shining stars

Her secrets sing down through the ages

As bright as lightning bugs in jars

All beneath the canopy

of ageless oaks whose secrets keep

Forever in her beauty

This island is my home

Her rolling hills by hands were built

by natives who were never found

The only hints left of their passing

are ancient shells that ghost the ground

Bone white they tell a story

of all the slaves who graced her shores

of cotton fields so long plowed under

a jungle now upon her stores

All beneath the canopy

of ageless oaks whose secrets keep

Forever in her beauty

This island is my home

All beneath the canopy

of ageless oaks whose secrets keep

Forever in her beauty, ah in her beauty

This island is my home

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