In the twilight of tranquility,
You may hear his tune...

Suddenly I have lost you
Your disposition shifting like the hands of time...

It's a catalytic repose
Of innocence and Dixie toes...

And I, the protector of the covers.
Wished it gone for one hundred mothers...

The lover is never too far from freedom,
Unshackled rendezvous' to destinations of pure...

It snowed once last fall,
Snowbound, and I wrapped in my clad shawl...

We too, are literate,
We pose our-self by candlelight...

Love, a mere castaway on my open shore,
Came only for a moment, and with time did drift...

Sequestered beneath the vortex is my mind
The mass of emotion, the knowing of you...

I, too, am heir to blunder.
Likened to the Graceful stallion...

I find myself amongst the black and white.
My life is played upon sixty-four squares...

I and this lover embrace our clad cage,
We rehearse a tragic symphony of love...