Beneath a Satin Moon

Beneath a Satin Moon,

In a golden wood,

Beneath a painted sky,

A paper house is standing,

Underneath a satin Moon.

And in the garden growing,

Pastel flowers flourish,

And never lose their bloom.

Summer, Winter, Spring or Fall,

As lovely as they are,

They never see a raindrop fall.

And tiger lilies made of silk,

Slink around a lily pond,

Of which there are, you know,

Quite fond.

As gilded Goldfish swim

amidst the frilly lilies,

Blue waters smooth as glass,

Gaze upon the heavens,

As they pass,

Reflecting all they see,

In nature’s perfect harmony.

All this of course,

Is nothing but pure imagery,

But none the less,

It interests me.

For it’s as real,

as real can be,

But then, of course,

Who knows reality?

                                                Karen Ann DeMers © 1996