The 1700's California Island Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A land of dreams, so grand and wide,
Was thought an island, side by side.
Not real land, but myth and lore,
On maps of old, from distant shore.

A tale of old, a book's sweet rhyme,
Of paradise, through passing time.
A queen with might, a land of gold,
A whispered story, bravely told.

Then men set sail, with hope and quest,
To lands unknown, put to the test.
They saw a shape, a coast so far,
And thought it was that island star.

The waters wound, a tricky maze,
Through hazy gulfs and foggy days.
They couldn't see where land met sea,
And so the island myth would be.

A friar drew, with lines so neat,
An island's form, a map complete.
His sketch was seen, by eyes afar,
And spread like light, from star to star.

Then makers bold, with ink and quill,
Copied the lines, against their will.
For maps were made, with errors old,
And tales of islands, to be sold.

Two hundred years, the island stood,
A painted lie, misunderstood.
Until one day, a truth took hold,
A land on maps, no longer told.

A king's decree, a final word,
That California, truly heard,
Was not an isle, but part of main,
The island dream, would fade again.