My Native Land
The beauty of my native land
No one can ever understand-
Unless he goes himself to see
The special wonders that enrapture me.
Each place has a beauty of a sort,
Each one has his own precious haunt;
Mine, I treasure in my memory.
Oh! Time, don't ever take them from me.
Rivers flowing swiftly over,
Rapids in their majestic power:
Tall, thin trees in search of light
Are oh, so wondrous to my sight.
Savannahs stretching east and west
Are among the places I love best.
Guyana, my home and native land,
Some day to thee I shall come to rest.
Share This Poem