By garden stone your shadow stays,
The dusk is wrapped in gentle haze.
One smile, and silence learns to sing,
Of fleeting love, a fragile wing.

The roses bow along the wall,
Their petals tremble, some will fall.
But in your gaze the night takes root,
And every moment turns to fruit.

You lean where ivy climbs in green,
The softest hush enfolds the scene.
One glance, the fading sun recalls,
The warmth of light before night falls.