He stringed his words, into a thread of gold;
That embraced her parched neck, whole.
Glowed the stringed gold, on the pale neck, soft, bold.
He read her face, read it like poetry;
A song that filled the missing beats of her euphony.
Sparks flew, here and there, beautiful, sultry.
He waltzed his fingers, to a magical ballad;
A warmth of sanctuary, in the theatre myriad.
Spilled hazing light around and over, dramatic pallet.
He caressed his sighs, and sprinkled them softly;
A prism of blessings, encasing her gently’
Star dust shone upon her, blithe and brilliantly.
The dawn blushed, in yellow light.
It rained magic again,
As the stars made love.
From ember, to sparks
Bathing in the dawn’s radiance.