I live on an island, I can’t deny.
And it’s easily bigger than a giant’s eye.
Gigantic trees grow there
Taller than a moss-tree
Easily taller than that by three.
In springtime they sprout
By summer they’re full out
Their feathery fronds
Sheltering all around
But those feathery fronds
Also shelter us from sun
And when they shrivel and dry
The sun is already gone from the sky
But I’m telling you this
The soil of my island home
I’ll gladly kiss
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