The stars are blind,
As the flowers,
Of their love
By the lake,
They gaze,
to their luminous piers,
To refreshen,
The delicate and rugged,
wonders of their being
In the evenings sublime rapture,
The stars are blind,
As their love, earthworn,
They lay upon their irises,
With the honey of gentle bonfires,
Their love caresses like rose mists,
Within their desolate and Lovely beings,
The stars are blind,
As the expansive flowers,
of their love,
They lay upon their irises,
Between Crescent Embraces,
The stargazers love,
and finesse,
Depths of divine Moon,
Fullness of Starlit lake
Reynaldo Casison