It exists in the softness of the night,
In the breaking of day
- from the plates of light.
A simple magic is your smile
Descending from the ‘naturelle’ of your face,
I see it with how your skin glows
It is the same beauty when the river flows,
With the reflection of the sun’s bride
- the moon, its high and tide
especially in the dark.
I am the black hearted, fair grained mind
Thinking only you exist to tell of your kind,
Give me your time; let me be your little rhyme
And I promise to weave gold thoughts of you
A crown and your head,
My heart as your stage.
The story of how we met
In a wand through this age.