Where silence reigns, your breath is flame,
It burns the night, it speaks your name.
The moon delays, the stars grow shy,
Yet all draw close to keep you nigh.

The garden sighs, the ivy leans,
It bows before the sight it’s seen.
Your light commands the night to stay,
And keeps its hush from slipping away.

Where moonlight drapes the weathered wall,
Your beauty outshines even all.
The stars themselves confess defeat,
Beside your glow, they’re far less sweet.

The roses hush, their blooms grow still,
As if they bow to match your will.
Each petal falls, yet none complain,
For beauty such as yours remain.