Walking the Shoreline

On a new planet, walking the shoreline,
Colors are different but not out of place.
The sky is a little green, just a trace.
The air is fresh and clear, the light rain divine.

Moons measured and counted: a total of nine,
Each with round craters, each with a face.
Forests and flowers flow like red wine.
Colors are different, not out of place.

Feel the sand on the beach, warmth of sunshine.
An island holds its beauty and grace.
Monuments lie scattered by some unknown race.
With a breeze blowing gently, all is fine
On a new planet, walking the shoreline.