Crete -The Colour of Sunshine

"Crete
Is an island of many a mountain.
It seems so parched, rocky and dry,
A blazing sun and a burnished sky,
Oh! How I wish - for a watery fountain!"

An ancient olive
Clings to the mountain,
Laden branches, and twisted root,
The Cretan sun gently ripens the fruit,
Oil will be pressed - a deep green fountain.

Honeybees buzz
Around the mountain,
A hundred hives in blue and white,
The Cretan sun encourages flight,
Honey will flow - a golden fountain

A nimble goat
Traverses the mountain,
Spindly legs, on a stony track,
The Cretan sun caresses her back,
Milk she will give - a pure white fountain;

A Vineyard lies
At the foot of the mountain,
Ordered rows in historic shape,
The Cretan sun softly kisses the grape,
Wine will be made – a blood red fountain.

"Yes! Crete
Is an island of many a mountain,
It may seem colorless, dry and severe,
But the Cretan sun works magic here,
Blessing the land – with a bountiful fountain."