Take my hand,
my love,
my dear,
and cry not this eve.

For through the fog,
I will take you,
take you by your hand,
and through the darkness lead.

The sun may set,
but light shall e’er shine,
the beacon of our love,
my heart you’ll receive.

So look to the sky,
beyond the eventide,
and wish ‘pon the twinkle of the stars,
for in the them you shall find,
a love that will ne’er leave.

‘Pon night’s eve, gaze to the sky as I do,
for there the stories of our lives are penned,
and know in my own heart I think of you,
as the endless sky, our love has no end.

My star you are, and the moon is our light,
guiding us through the tests of life and fear,
Waiting fore’er for time to be right,
As every eve without you brings a tear.

So I sing this sonnet to you my love,
As you look toward our sky for answers,
And to your fears a solution thereof,
In the guise of stars’ ethereal dancers.

So cry your fears and tears no more my dear,
Our time is near as fore’er I’m here.

By quill and ink I pen these words,
understanding not what forged such fires.

I gaze upon the darkened sky,
and regard a Star in shadowed veil.

Her sparkle and verve enrapture my breath,
pulling my nous from the gravity of mire.

Her light glistens strong,
closing the distance betwixt ours souls without fail.

Star in my sky,
You give me pause.

I speak to your beauty,
your passion and your radiant charm.

Please hear my words whispered ‘pon this silent night,
whence thy effect ‘pon me is born with cause.

‘For on this eve I am not alone,
and my Evening Star holds my eye within her arms.’