Lyrics

Mother?s Favorite Fruit

My mother?s favorite fruit
was the pineapple.

Mother said it reminded her of cabaña boys
and hot, languid days on the beach.

Yes, my mother loved the tropics at heart
and never really left them
at heart.

Mother?s first tropical romance
bloomed on young Caribbean shores
A vacation, immigration to glorious shores

She told me with glowing sunset eyes
of the ocean, the sand, and the sun
melded into one.

Here she had her first taste
of pineapple

A sunny tang of delight
a warm, sweet vibrance
A joy of paradise
offered in the hands of a
brown-skinned boy

Not a better vacation
than from gloomy, hot-tempered world
to cool-breeze heaven

She showed me with light-touching hands
how smooth the sand felt on her skin
brushing cares away

This was her voyage to adulthood,
a wondrous journey to maturity.

In sultry lands
under shining skies
She found her home

And her heart was where
the pineapple grows.