An Island dream of warmth and welcome. The harsh mountain thrusts into the clouds. Native life is hard but beauty remains for those that venture.
A Madeiran dream, to view the blue and feel it.
The sun drops below the edge, colours call the names of the dreamers.
They float from bloom to bloom, guided by the colours we cannot see.
The webs of life stretch amongst the armour.
Vivid are those that reach for rays of light, to grow and be.
It groans with age but yearns for steams return.
Harsh are the rocks that dash the hopes of man.
The jagged edge of life meets the cold white.
To stand and watch above the crowd, the lonely man, a tear flows, he sees.
The spice of life flavours the mind.
She stands proud, staring into the void.
The impossible birds, with backward knees.
Cool is the metal that stands against the water. The frozen smile with eyes that cannot see
The blue caress of breeze, still waters call. To sit and stare, the breath it calms the soul
A regal place, reflects the happy life.
The edge of realms they clash, like titans on a stormy night.
Guide thee by the straighened path, the shaded streets of stone
Crash upon the rocks my friends for death will lead you home