Catalina's Milky Way Dreams(c) Re- Written 2024 - By The Depressed Poet, Doc Dalton
Shooting Stars and fast moving CarsRumble through the roads of my mindTick-e-ty Tock, the old sounds of the clockSay's it's almost a quarter past nine
The moons surely rising, the stars are a glidingAnd Mr. Sandman is ready to roamHurry off to bed and put your pillow under your headHe might just be visiting you tonight at homeDrifting off to sleep is such a wonderful featAdventures you'll enjoy on your ownMaking new friends on a journey to no endA secrete life that is yours all aloneDon't be afraid of those gobble lee goo'sOr those pirates drifting to sea on their boatsThere's no need to worry there just in your dreamsLike rainbow clouds and cotton candy floatsOh that sky's full of colors of make believe wondersExciting every step of the wayCan't you let me stay for just a little bit longerPlease, don't take my Dreams a wayTo see this through a child's eyesOn the path to where stars brightly beamThrough a different world of twist and twirlsWon't you come to my Milky Way DreamsWe could have so much funUnder an ice cream sun and laugh our time awaySing some M & M songs the whole day longUntil we awake to brand new day
Pluto say's hey kiddo don't get out of bedAs Snakel Puss laughs and says, ah it's OKKKKKKKKPopeye yell's, were gone in a minute after I eat me spinachPoo say's all aboard my Banana Split SleighOh that Sky's full of colors of make believe wondersExciting every step of the wayCan't you let me stay for just a little bit longerWorry not Catalina, we won't take your Dreams a way
To see this through a child's eyesOn the path to where stars brightly beamThrough a different world of twist and twirlsWon't you come to my Milky Way Dreams
Catalina say's, please come join me, on my Milky Way Dreams
There once grew a flower named Catalina in a hidden valley where the morning sun arrived gently, as if even the light itself did not wish to disturb her beauty. She was unlike any flower, vine, or blossom the world had ever known. Her petals carried shades of soft coral, golden amber, and delicate blush pink that seemed to change colors with the sky. At sunrise she glowed warm like honey kissed by the dawn, and by moonlight she shimmered silver as if tiny stars had settled upon her leaves.
The fragrance of Catalina drifted through the air like a sweet memory. She smelled of wildflowers after a gentle rain. Fresh peaches resting on a wooden table near by as the faint touch of vanilla carried by a summer breeze. Travelers who passed near her would stop without even realizing why. Their worries softened. Their hearts grew lighter. Even the heaviest souls found themselves smiling again.
Catalina grew beside a quiet stream deep within emerald hills where willow trees danced with the wind and birds sang as if performing for her alone. Butterflies gathered around her in bright clouds of orange and blue, while deer rested peacefully nearby beneath her gentle shade. The earth around her always remained rich and alive, for wherever Catalina rooted herself, beauty followed.
The villagers spoke of her in whispers filled with wonder. They believed the flower carried something sacred within her petals. Mothers would bring their children to see Catalina when life felt difficult, and somehow the children always left laughing. Elderly couples would sit near her for hours holding hands, remembering the beauty of their younger days. Poets wrote endless verses about her. Painters tried to capture her colors but never quite succeeded. No words or brushstrokes could fully explain the feeling Catalina gave to the world.
Yet the most beautiful thing about Catalina was not her color, nor her scent, nor the peaceful place where she bloomed. It was the way she reminded people that beauty could still exist in a weary world. She became a symbol of hope, kindness, and quiet strength. Even during storms, Catalina stood tall, her petals swaying but never breaking, teaching all who saw her that true beauty is not only found in appearance, but in the light we bring to others.
And so the legend of Catalina continued to grow, carried by the wind from one heart to another, reminding everyone who heard her story that some things are placed on this earth not merely to be seen… but to be felt forever.
The fragrance of Catalina drifted through the air like a sweet memory. She smelled of wildflowers after a gentle rain. Fresh peaches resting on a wooden table near by as the faint touch of vanilla carried by a summer breeze. Travelers who passed near her would stop without even realizing why. Their worries softened. Their hearts grew lighter. Even the heaviest souls found themselves smiling again.
Catalina grew beside a quiet stream deep within emerald hills where willow trees danced with the wind and birds sang as if performing for her alone. Butterflies gathered around her in bright clouds of orange and blue, while deer rested peacefully nearby beneath her gentle shade. The earth around her always remained rich and alive, for wherever Catalina rooted herself, beauty followed.
The villagers spoke of her in whispers filled with wonder. They believed the flower carried something sacred within her petals. Mothers would bring their children to see Catalina when life felt difficult, and somehow the children always left laughing. Elderly couples would sit near her for hours holding hands, remembering the beauty of their younger days. Poets wrote endless verses about her. Painters tried to capture her colors but never quite succeeded. No words or brushstrokes could fully explain the feeling Catalina gave to the world.
Yet the most beautiful thing about Catalina was not her color, nor her scent, nor the peaceful place where she bloomed. It was the way she reminded people that beauty could still exist in a weary world. She became a symbol of hope, kindness, and quiet strength. Even during storms, Catalina stood tall, her petals swaying but never breaking, teaching all who saw her that true beauty is not only found in appearance, but in the light we bring to others.
And so the legend of Catalina continued to grow, carried by the wind from one heart to another, reminding everyone who heard her story that some things are placed on this earth not merely to be seen… but to be felt forever.
