It was a crimson moon
On velvet tapestry
The stitched work of countless stars
Out there for all to see
It was a golden peach
Dancing on the sky
Rippling as a tiny pebble
Skipped merrily on by

It was a ancient book
Raw open in the weather
And many rings of ages past
That greeted passing feather
It was a tiny bead
On thin stretched silver string
Sparkles of a pastime slow
In candlelight, glimmering

It was an etched heart
Piercing song of oak
Just to show the girl
How tenderly he spoke
It was a fading light
Gave way to mist's rare gleam
In marshes thick or valley rich
My savoring, my dream