On the lake in Florida,

On waters vivid blue,

With palm trees swaying in the wind,

And skies a lake-side hue,

A landscape on the water's edge,

The wind-kissed ripples flow,

The water does not give or take,

When with it do you row,

Hold fast to what is truly there,

Hold fast to what is real,

Do not allow the ripples,

To make waves that now conceal,

Reflections are a shadow dream,

On deeper waters clear,

Remember now what lies beneath,

And not what dreams appear.