The lowing light reveals the night;
half-dressed but deftly clad.
So blessed are they who see this sight,
and too the ones who have.
The shining stars shine from afar,
like diamonds in the sky.
They dazzle in their night bizarre,
but from the day they shy.
The budding hills are glowing still
as sunlight strokes their peaks.
But they are not for him to feel,
so rightly makes to leave.
The breathing air combs through his hair,
and kisses him so sweet.
It whispers soft with words so fair,
but still the sunlight sleeps.
The weeping light tries hard to fight
the urge to bring the dawn.
He cannot show his fire in spite
of love he must ignore.
The glistening stars still try entrance,
but bother him no more.
He too would dance if he’d the chance,
but guilt’s spilt on the floor.
The shadowed hills, with lace and silk,
move true with every beat.
Their heart beneath will soon be filled
with pain, without relief.
The heavy air can’t but despair
as inhibitions break.
The rushing wind of passion’s flare
soon see the sun awake.
The love released, the night concedes
to all it so deplores.
The sunrise was like that of dreams
when night fell in to dawn.