A ruby-raspberry sun
setting red on sloping hill
making maroon to the heavens above,
drizzling damask on dusk.
And quietly, the head does roll
at midnight\'s stroke, on soft pillow
dreaming what of wanting dreams;
elusive things, as I perceive.
And like floating lanterns, those dreams are freed
straight from the skull to the sky serene
a world above full of diamond dreams
that are the stars of the sky I see!