Traveling Onwards Near the Island:

I near the traveling date,
I stare at the morning's fours.
I hear outside,
It's out there and pours.

Onward I go,
Nearing this mile.
I look at this paper,
Willfully I smile.

Near your Island,
I find this small piece.
Tone-e,
Comes with some peace.

Four goes by,
My thoughts are sane.
Go on guess,
It's pretty plain.

We want the Sun to come,
Waiting on magnificent through.
I gaze on upward knowing,
You are looking too.