Colombia

There is a field in Colombia 

Where the brightest flowers grow 

Hidden from America

There seeds are softly sown 

 

I breathed the fragrance of Colombia  

I found a stolen flower 

Dropped along the wayside 

Petals crushed by power 

 

I picked up the soft bloom 

I held her in my arms 

I poured water on her bruises 

and marveled at her charms 

 

Everyday I waited 

For a sign of life or hope 

And when her roots had sprouted 

I had to let her go

 

I lost her in the moonlight 

I searched the garden through 

I wandered in the starlight 

'till sunrise struck me through 

 

I knew I couldn't keep her

I knew her scent would fade 

Perhaps Colombia is sweeter 

In the field of hope and pray