I really shouldn’t wait till the wee hours to sputter out a few slender verses. Is it my fault, my muse prefers me weary, bleary and in the dark?

Forgotten the words of countless songs
Forgotten the wonder of the dervish dance
But never from my mind will slip,
the honeyed eternity of your lips

When grey and white claim my mane
And supple flesh yields to withered vein
In my eyes shall glimmer forever clear
that sweetest moment in all my years

If trees become memories in cold ash
And Venetian towers sink beneath wave’s lash
I will recall the lush tresses of your crown
crashing upon ivory shores, crashing sweetly down

Feebles stars light an old world’s skies
as a moon unchained offers its goodbyes
All these shall come an eternity before
A syllable is lost of the words I swore