It was early in the
Month of June
I knew my trip
Would end to soon
In Batsi town
On Andros isle
I came to rest
And stayed a while
The northern isle
In the Cyclades
With sun and sand
And soft sea breeze
Bathed in the sun
And in the blue sea
Bathed in the beauty
Of the culture I see
I'll miss the place
And people fare
The scent of herbs
On warm night air
The groves and vines
Of differing hues
The hills and valleys
And Aegean views
For one last look
I slowly turn
I don't know when
But I will return
