Land of yore ( from after independance ).

Land of yore, where the sun never ceases.
Ripen fruits in their season till they are
ready to reap.

Buckley to your breast, surging through
the nights assures. What's the tides, love
abide. Land of yore, of yore! am your.


That is my take today, and certainly there is hope to live by, be bless.