I can be found lying under my daydreaming canopy
In a sea of the longest hours
Trails reflecting my contemplation taking me
Beyond the circle of my own powers

One would think of sweet music and lovely flowers
The fruit of the vines pleasing edge
As the master of all of these pleasant hours
Spent under my canopies ledge

I spin great tales as I lie here and dream all alone
Such thoughts I find in these hours
Turning withered leaves into warriors of stone
Fighting hail from a comet’s showers

I can watch the birth and death of time stand still
In a vast domain’s swaying net
While the sun splashes his brazen will
In bursts you can’t forget

I can be found lying under my daydreaming canopy
My own thoughts filling up silent air
Weaving tales to sail on my longest hours sea
Half-willing without a care
To be