Maker

Days of yellow saffron.

Nights with purple skies.

Melting in the sunbeams

From my maker's eyes.

Mountain-colored lilac

In the distant haze.

I would like to lie here,

Timing all my days

Move past my window,

Sunshine is shimmering

Jack-o-lanterns glimmering,

Giant moths are flickering around.

See, the moon is hiding

Underneath the sea.

Pretty soon he'll venture

To take a look at me.

So I humbly stand here

Beneath his golden glow.

Doesn't he remind me

Of somebody I know?

I must be leaving,

Back to reality.

Don't you just pity me?

I could so easily stay here.