My lady of the softly sovereign gaze,
I write where midnight keeps its tender watch,
When thought grows luminous in shadowed haze
And hearts speak truths the daylight cannot catch.
Accept these lines as envoys of my soul,
Sent forth in ink where spoken words would fail;
For you have touched my being to its whole,
As moonlight turns a restless tide to pale.
I must confess: your name, once merely sound,
Now tolls within me like a silver bell;
In every hush your echoes gather round
And teach my silence secretly to tell.
No parchment holds the vastness that I feel,
No script contains the warmth your glance imparts—
Yet still I write, in hope these signs reveal
The loyal constancy that crowns my heart.
Should fate decree long distances between,
Or days conspire to dim your gentle sight,
Remember what these quiet words have been:
A vow that burns undying through the night.
For though the world may alter, fade, or sever,
And seasons turn their bright and solemn art,
Know this, most cherished love — that I shall ever
Remain the faithful keeper of your heart.