Pale

An island sat sleeping in the sun,
Its beaches white as palest dun,
Its emerald trees swept up by moss,
And perched in by an albatross.
The waves rushed on into the sea,
As if they touched eternity;
A beam of sunlight hit the sands
Their grains untouched by beast or man.
No ships appeared against its coast,
No sound except the dying notes
Of whales which swam within its bays
And hid by underwater caves.
The sky was clear, unaltered blue:
Against its chest, a parrot flew
And flashed its wing against the sun
Above the sands of palest dun.