Sometimes,
I yearn for the land of my birth,
Where the food is fresh
And the breeze is gentle.
Where the mountains stand tall,
And the rocks wear caps
Where vantage points
Are seen almost everywhere…

Surely,
I will see you again,
O land of my birth
I will follow your path again
That leads to your mountains
O let me
Be carried by your breeze
O land of peace and tourism…

(c) Chukwudi Isaac