Late at night

When the
7 silver stars
Gyrate across
The midnight sky;
Quelling sister’s
Great despair
I by soft white light
Of virgin moon
And 100 stringed
And glowing stars
lie sleeping,
sailing,
eyes closed
in eternal stare,
And you whisper
Sweetly, gently,
In my ear,
Cathartic words
Of love,
and selves repair.