I will sing you songs, my love
Of silver moons and silent sand;
Or slender pine trees, sweetly fragrant.
Our nocturnal wonderland.
We will soar on clouded carpets,
Sailing on a gentle breeze.
Stars drift by like jewelled trinkets
As we wander where we please.
We will scale the steepest mountains;
We'll surmount the greatest height;
No more cares to crowd our memories,
Nothing mars our endless night.
Only you and I together,
All alone up in the sky.
Drifting in our sweet enchantment,
While we sing our lullaby.
© By Thomas Vaughan Jones (TVaughanJones@aol.com)