A beautiful poem about Cousin Island
by Conservation volunteer Elizabeth Procter
Take me to that windswept porch,
Where birds dance through the waves.
Where sun bursts through the crisp white clouds,
And peace fills up the days.
The ground on which that house does lie,
Is more than man-made wealth.
Holds only things that nature brings,
A haven from man's stealth.
The trees are jeweled with nesting birds,
On every single branch.
It's golden leaves are gorged upon,
(The island's Giant himself).
Sapphire seas rise and fall exploding into pearls.
They keep their great unknown quite safe,
Until their depths unfurl.
Take me to that windswept beach,
Where birds ride on the breeze.
Where skies are perfect,
It's flawless changing seas.
The remnants of its man-held past,
Have crumbled in defeat.
And nature can be seen at last to claim it's rightful seat.
Upon the heights, upon the ground,
Through trees, the earth and air.
It makes it known in every sound,
That nature's place is here!