Go and open the orange door,

maybe there are pumpkins ripening in the autumn sun,

an inviting, tomatoey scent of baked beans,

a great gleaming galleon of goldfish.

Go and open the gold door,

maybe there are gleaming golden eyes staring you,

A gold bar shining in the sun.

Go and open the red door,

Maybe there are bits of lava coming from the room,

At tomato peeling back in skin in terror

Go and open the green door,

Maybe there is soft grass,

a laser dancing in the night sky.