You lean where ivy softly clings,
The night descends on quiet wings.
Your smile, a flame that shadows seek,
A secret glow the dark can’t keep.

By twilight’s hand the stones grow cold,
But you ignite their ancient hold.
One glance, the centuries obey,
And whisper dreams that will not stray.

The flowers bend, the evening sighs,
A hidden fire lives in your eyes.
Each breath you take reshapes the air,
And crowns the night with beauty rare.

Where rustic walls embrace the gloom,
Your presence turns to sudden bloom.
The dusk, once gray, begins to sing,
Of fleeting warmth your shadows bring.