A little it to the west too.
An isle much alike with my surroundings,
Yet different in entirety.
The little P plays catch up.
But little it knows, it already has.
For not merely has it more in pluses,
It's poised to move beyond simple arithmetics.
A new state, lots of land,
Untouched, with much to mould.
Raw materials available in its hinterland,
An archipelago full of gold.
In little more than ten years, nay perhaps nine,
The Little P, a pretty island.
Will shine again, like 1887.
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