Set sail on good Lumadica.
She dances through the waves,
and wades though heaven's starlight.
(It's the twinkle that she craves.)
She fills mercuric canvas,
with shrieking liquid glass
and hums a tune of rapture
to the dreams that wander past.
She's bedecked with sunlit timbers
and the grace with which hearts burn.
Each day we stand upon her,
and she listens as we learn.