He said to me  " Come and take my hands
and walked with me under the rented Caribbean moon
for the emerald moon at night has the power to heal wounded spirits

I took a trip to the land of my birth at least once a year,
Where the beating sun scorched my skin into an even tone
and the North America cold snap it back in place
during the winter months.

I love it when the aircraft slowly descent over the small Island
Those nostalgic feelings get to me all the time,
I often wondered if the Islanders knew of my arrival
He waits for me in that sunny room,
where the window curtain blow in and out in a timely manner,
The room scent, a light, fragrant aroma of lavender,
and the fresh saw dust welcome me home.

How many more secret can we store there?
a quiet place to let my worries go,
a place to make me smile, perhaps then
I shall always welcome those sweet tears of joy
And he being there with me makes
my Island trips more pleasurable
Sunny days and memorable Caribbean evening,
I became that romantic poem every poet thought of writing.