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A message to all Jamaicans -

by Rich Lowe

As I think of the hills and the clear blue sea, memories of Jamaica rush back to me, as I think of the rivers and fertile earth, I remember the land of my birth.

I re-live in my mind, a distant past and my heart laments the times I've lost, I think of a time and a place I feel gone, but etched in memories surreal.

I long to return to a simpler way in that sunshine land I used to play and the most primitive ways and means, these are the things that fill my dreams.

The beaches, the mountains, a caressing breeze, cane fields, banana and coconut trees, long and winding country roads and country busses with heavy loads, the hand cart man selling his wares.

The Jolly Bus and penny ha- penny bus fare, a fudge man riding to and fro shouting icicle, ice-cream cake and choca mo. The market stalls filled with fruits, the laughter, the innocence of my youth.

Things that I Miss and long for so, things that remind me of long ago, at nights I recall the star filled sky and peenie wallie's flittering by, in whispered tones we'd spend the night, telling duppy stories that filled with fright.

On a windy day the kites would soar, while angry waves lashed at the shore, swaying trees in the howling wind.
God how much I miss these things, the way the rain slowed everything down, the earthy smell as it hit the ground.

Refreshing the land and watering crops, the exciting clangor on the zinc roof tops, oh Jamaica, I miss your ways, I miss your climate and sunny days, in a foreign land where I've come to rest, spurned by an economic quest.

Though no turning back, on this travelled way, for you my homeland, I'll always pray, my memories of you will never depart. JAMAICA JAMAICA THE BEAT OF MY HEART.


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