At first sight of our island, I confess I've been known to cry Trying to conceal it, blaming morning mist Dabbing laughter from my eye When she appears, wafer thin Horizon-painted sliver Out beyond the nearer shoals Where cowboys camp in mangrove damp On oceanic river As engine drones and current swirls Add passenger commotion On the deck must be I'll stand Buried in emotion

The last stretch to our island, I confess Nags and irritates

Stomach birds are pecking; bovine calm on show While Arcadia awaits See the dolphins arch and play Jaunty river chase But never can diversion hold As edgy heart is churned apart By that impending place As ship moves on too slow by far Begging time to quicken Buoyed by rusted rail I will Horizon line to thicken

To reach our island's shore, I confess Could spur one to rage Crowding on the staircase: chickens, betel, fish Feeling trapped inside a cage So near, so far, gangplank down Porters push and hustle Time is pain, can't reach the shore How locals go the locals know Through Tomoruddin bustle Finally I walk the plank A risky situation Plant my feet on riverbank Engulfed in mud-elation

Andrew Eagle is an English instructor and feature writer of The Daily Star.