Now I don't usually go in for poetry, but

This wouldn't come out any other way.

There must be a place somewhere

Where the sunset twinkles

With thousand-carat stars.

A place where the waves are chips of aquamarine

breaking on dusted gold.

We can go there, if you like. 

Watch the sunlight warm the agate peaks

Smile as the sparrows soar on silver wings

And duck beneath obsidian-limbed spiders

lurking on crystal webs.

In autumn there I've heard that copper falls

and carpets the earth in chimes. 

There's an alabaster moon, you know.
And when it rains
It pours, with quartz raindrops.

Don't break your teeth on the apples.
But when the sunset twinkles
(and the butterflies have hid their dollar wings)
we can sit on the emerald grass
next to the Faberge flowers
and wait for the stars to fall.



Now that is decidedly odd. I can't quite form an opinion on it.

EDIT: I've formed an opinion, and the opinion is 'shit'