To script a lover fairer than I know
Would test the scripter’s tender sanity
Like Phaeton’s flirt, let courters cursing go
Wo dare approach the flame our love can free

The gentle wing that bears our souls above
Grows stronger with each beating. On this wing
I worship; to our testament of love
I pace the decades minutes’ waitings bring.

All thunder thunders tacit near the roar
Of thund’rous halls wherein our echoes dance
To rhythms ever hoped, and evermore
Now pulsing to our hope of permanence.

Until again aged Phaeton’s horses fly
I pledge my life’s designs to you and I.