(The Squire Reynold doth inspired me in turn. His inspiration from mine and his comment upon his page.)

I gaze upon the stars lit bright

Nothing but me and the night

There I fight a soul comfort

To the dark is whom I blurt

All my unhappiness and woes

There, with green grass between my toes

I whisper and I shout

However it be I need to let out

I talk of nothing or of bitter tears

Of all my hopes and especially my fears

And, always, each night

I talk of my shining light

Who is the one whom creates the strongest feelings of all

The one to whom I'd wish to call

It pains my heart to look at his face

How I wish to see him in my place

Then he might see my melancholy

And come saveth me

Into the night I will stay

Morning come, I'm away

I see upon the stars, outdoor

Wanting, seeking all the more

Not just to whisper to the black

But to have it, or rather someone, whisper back

The dark bile that I contain

Now will no longer remain

Because I give it to the night

As I wait for my shining light.