Enderal

In Enderal, of pearly white,
Of gates and caverns polished bright,
Of streets of silver, rivers gold,
But there alone, it has been told,
Are sights unseen by human eyes
And rainbow cluttered, cloudless, skies
And Nights of stars and Days of sun
And every moment’s just begun.
The paths are lit with phoenix light
In Enderal, of pearly white.

In Enderal of endless day
Or so I’m told, or so they say,
Are houses sheathed in beaten gold
And gardens young and gardens old.
And trees with silver diamonds set
And wishing wells of livid jet,
Where all the wishes, wished come true
And ne’er a word can misconstrue.
The unicorns are ne’er away
In Enderal, of endless day.

In Enderal, where songs are sung,
And ruby gilded lanterns hung,
The plates are ivory, glist’ning white;
The cups are carved adamanite.
The knives and spoons are onyx stone;
The candlesticks are ne’er outshone.
A sole em’rald of each is made
With silver cunningly inlaid.
There flawless crystal bells are rung
In Enderal, where songs are sung.

In Enderal, of hopes and dreams,
Of golden fish in silver streams,
Where beds are down and sheets are snow
And ne’re a loathsome wind will blow.
Where parks are held in high esteem
And honesty is the regime.
Where tables are charged, bright and high
And dreams are things that never die.
Yes, everything is as it seems
In Enderal, of hopes and dreams.