She has glowing eyes
Gracing the land of skies
Where dreamy times collide
Lily Pad, her float
Lotus flowers, speak
Her fingers trace East to West
Grasshoppers make their leap
Earth fires off canons
As she prepares her sail
Green eyes strike a match
Do you hear that distant wail
Do you smell that burning flame
She certainly is wild
Arrows shooting higher
She was the Archer’s child.