An ephemeral sight
Thine rounded shape which glows so bright
T'is your light
By which I write
Plume in one hand
Curtain in other in order to view you

A halo of light, fluffy clouds
Surrounds your exterior glow
Magnifying your radiance

Must thou pass between the trees?
And my window screen?
With bars blocking my escape
My house is a prison
In which I must live.

But as an upward glance
Heightens my expectancy,
So does your light
Which helps me write.

The clouds have left you behind.
Their grace has floated away.
By the puff of wind
That I find
To be reassuring at times
Whereas at others fatal.