A thousand years
I have been up here
A thousand years it seems
But I love the hilltop
The little hut stands steady
Against strong winds
There are rumors
From the coast below
That a cyclone and more
Might be along the way
Or some familiar countrymen
Pushing a stone up this way
But my corn are growing well
The peanut flowers are in bloom
The kaukau and kumu patch as lush
And promising as ever
Don’t need no tea no sugar
No cigarettes no spak brus
No drugs no alcohol
But a nice meal of baked yams
And water from the rain storms
The hill has been my castle
And estate
For a thousand years
By James St Nativeson
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| Or how about some baked corn by the wayside? |
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