"Naida-Lee."
Where tangled trees guard treasure troves
And sun-born phoenix rise
Where wand’ring bands roam through the lands
Where stretch the endless, sizeless blue of sky.
A land that maps can never chart
For no man’s ever seen
The sandy shores and hellebores
Or gazed in awe at ocean’s sapphire sheen.
There are no men on Naida-Lee,
The sandy isle untamed
For men would snip and clip and strip
The beauty of the islet like others did the same.
No one ever returns from Naida-Lee
For no one wants to leave
The welcome relief from pain and grief
Will keep any from ever sailing home across the sea.
The sea itself is a serpent blue
Lashing and crashing with glee
It happily tears and wrecks and wears
On ships born from my beautiful, bittersweet Naida-Lee
The sky on Naida-Lee at night
Is like a thousand paint-drops blending
Onto a purple and green and indigo palette
Smeared lovingly onto a canvas never-ending.
I’ve never regretted my voyage
Though I’ve been through one or two gales
I’m not a great captain nor a fine man of action
I’m an old sailor telling a tale.
She appreciates my kind, Naida-Lee does,
And I’ll never find anywhere else
That sees me as me and not who I could be
Nor an old relic meant for a shelf.
It’s a life of adventure for sailors like me
And I hope some of you understand
That Naida-Lee waits with me and my mates
For you, yes, you, in this land--
This wonderful, seeable, all-sorts-guaranteedable,
Island of Naida-Lee.
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