On the Island of Ancient Time,

I observed a mighty Minatour,

 Menacingly charge at a helpless ant lion,

Cowardly looking down.

On the Island of Creativity,

I found a river with mesmerising ripples,

flowing from a dancing Parrot floating in the breeze.

On the Island of Sharkng Shallows,

I touched burning, bones, buried in the sand,

Like a forgotten treasure chest.

On the Island of Emptiness,

I noticed the breeze stroked the land,

in sympathy for its very lack of visitors,

Anyone who would be the first to go there,

would know it’s hardly an island.

On the Island of whale,

I located the heart of the whale’s homes,

Their gracious plunges and precious songs

were as pleasing as a lullaby.