Jamaica, My Home Country

My heart is missing something so dear to me
The warmth of Jamaica, my home country
I missed the way the sand felt beneath my feet
And the beautiful smiles of the people that we meet

I missed the wind blowing gently against my cheeks
And missed the echoes of our voices as we speak
I missed the taste of sugar cane in the morning
I missed the glorious sunlight of a new day dawning

I missed the crowing of the cocks before the day lights
And the sounds of crickets chirping through the nights
I missed the constant swaying of the trees
As they danced to the cool, tantalising breeze

I missed the pleasant sound of the seashells next to my ear
I missed the sound of mom’s voice, saying have no fear
I missed the smell of the fresh sea air
And those pleasant, but noisy atmosphere

I missed the way the sellers expertly balanced their loads
As they walk to the markets on those dusty roads
I missed the sounds of tiny feet
As the kids play their games on those dusty streets

I missed the way my feet felt on the ground
Without there being any snow around
These are things I hope to again feel and see
When I’m back in Jamaica, my home country

©2007 Earl Thompson

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