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Magic Land
I remember that day, some time ago
when young Jon announced his plan,
"I'm going south to surf big waves,
down south to Magic Land."
"On the Pacific Coast near Panama
the waves don't ever end!"
"I'm going south just for six days,
if I can I'll take a friend."
Jon's mother screamed, "No, you can't go,
you're only sixteen years old!"
"What will I do without you here,
and it's dangerous down there I'm told."
But Jon said, "Mom, I've got to go,
the waves are twelve feet high."
"I may never get this chance again,
let me go Mom, or I'll just die."
So young Jon packed up to fly down south
which made his mother cry,
and we drove him to the airport gate
where everyone hugged good-bye.
I took Jon's picture with his boards,
I can still recall his smile.
"I'm off to surf in Magic Land,
but I'll be back in just a while."
Ten years have come and passed right by
since young Jon flew south that day.
We never even got a card,
"He'll call home soon", I'd say.
I'd have gone to find him in a flash,
if I could only book a flight.
But the airline man said with a strange look,
"We can't land there at night".
Knock, knock, I hear upon my door,
it awakes me from my nap.
"Who's there?", I call as I jump up,
pulling the blanket off my lap.
"Hi Dad, I'm home, it's just me, Jon."
"Have you and Mom decided yet?"
"Can I go to Costa Rica with Uncle Jim,
and my best friend, cousin Bret?"
(Copyright by CFLsurf.com, 2002, all rights reserved.)
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