Itís not just a lump of rock
In the middle of the sea.
Itís a quilt of plains and deserts
And the place I long to be.
Itís not a map of mindless borders;
A jigsaw of confounding countries.
Itís the land of glowing sunsets
And the place where my heart lies.
Itís not a land of vicious rivers
Crocodiles infesting every yard.
Itís the land of wondrous waterfalls
And I love its beauty though itís marred.
Itís not a barren, useless wasteland
Where even weeds refuse to grow.
Itís a greenhouse of thick jungles
And my love for it I show.
Itís not a string of obscure dates
Or a history of forgotten war.
Itís the haven of boundless herds
And its memories I store.
Itís not a climate of stifling heat
Which even tourists will not visit.
Itís a warm resort for migrant birds
And when absent I do miss it.
I know itís not the home of savages
Whoíve never even heard of soap.
For I have known the people there
In Africa, there is still hope.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.