The music of paradise, a kind of reprise

from joy it derives, a return to her surprise.

The winter air embraces my unarmed chest.

How warmly she drapes, my beloved guest.

A time for us, from a long gone past.

I once yearned for the Northern stars.

Princess Luna, on a glamorous stage,

the meaning of midnight blue inked page.

Constellations like reborn ornaments.

Beacons of our artefact weave her patterns.

Though I am blind, the stars greet me,

a luminescence from my Alpha Centuri. 

Perplexed I am amidst lavender dust.

Love alone hides in a diamond cask.

Published in: on 27/12/2015 at 10:00 AM  Leave a Comment