Outside Arcticland
Paradise lives right around the corner
With its yellow eves growing ever stronger,
Her feet suspended in the sky,
Among the clouds and upward high.
She is an angel as soft as snow,
But also warmer than the prophets know.
She moves northward with her fires burning,
Into the hopes of all dreamers’ yearning.
Outside Arcticland but looking in,
She crashes the gates with a haughty grin.
“To the fires burning go ye frigid devils.
I’ve arrived with my
Trenchant picks and shovels.”
Mother Nature is a
Relentless old lady, so she is;
As tough as nails,
But as soft as paradise.
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