The Island


Two dozen,

Flicker like stars,

Pretty in the night,

Just a village all alone,

Must be some small island,

Lost jewel in sleeping tropic seas,

I wonder how many people live there?

Do they have television and high speed Internet?

They don’t need them, with such skies nightly overhead,

Not a sound, but the murmuring engine of our vessel,

And the gentle rush of its ever-churning wake,

So passing by, we leave the hidden treasure,

More precious since seen by few eyes,

It drifts from view behind us,

And sinks into the horizon,

Now just a memory,

To carry fondly,

We travel,




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