To the beach.
To the sand.
To sleep in arms.
To hold her hand.
A star fell down.
We heard that sound.
Cinder from sky.
Fell to the ground.
Just near us.
A frightening sound.
We must endure.
We must persist.
And dream of this.
Like ocean mist.
Washing up, and over us.
The truth we know.
The light we hold.
A candle spark.
Lights up the dark.
I dream of this.
Your soft sea kiss.

All magical and mystical and wispy and warm.
This poets mind feeds on your lovely form.
You are for sure - a muse to me.
Others may not understand.
The gift we hold, in our strange land.
A time machine could set us free.
And show the things that hidden must be.
Yet until we possess such tools.
We hide our moments, stolen from fools.
Like long lost tales of star crossed fates.
We pause until the time revealed.
We hover on that spot we feel.
And wonder when next shall our moment?
As all good things to those who wait.
My princess, my reason, my daily muse.
Take not him, this one for granted...
For you know this deepest inside.
His heart for your smile has returned to life.