THIS IS FLORIDA

Emma Tharp Hale

Waving of Royal Palm and clustering Bamboo trees, Bananas growing tall, and whispering in the breeze, While trailing from the oaks the Spanish moss swings low. And vagrant breezes pass as waves lap to and fro.

Brightness of sunny skies, sunsets of varied hue, Magic of tropic seas, and lakes of sparkling blue; Songs of a thousand birds, flitting 'midst fairy bowers Where tall palmettes grow, where blossom gorgeous flowers; Where Bougainvilleas climb and spread their flowering vines Along the garden walls, er over stately pines-

Where dwell the finny tribe in rivers, lakes and bays. And you may sit and fish throughout the sunny days- This is Florida.

Acres of orange groves, grapefruit and tangerine.

Add romance to the land and beauty to the scene, And when the blossoms blow they waft to passers-by The fragrance of their bloom-perfume of Araby: And when the golden fruit has ripened in the fall, The

south wind calls you, "Come, there's room enough for all!" This is Florida.

Jasmines whose perfume grows more fragrant with the night.

And fills the poet's soul with dreams of sweet delight:

Where Alamanders ring their golden bells all day. And Trumpet Flowers blow a bugle call so gay; Where gay Hibiscus fills the passing hours with cheer,

And bright Poinsettias bloom when Christmas time draws near- This is Florida.

This is Florida.

The whiff of the pine, And the scent of the palm Give to Florida sunshine Its sweet soothing balm.