Soft the moonlight beams in our window,
A sliver of itself, lightest of shadow,
The clock keeps time in the hall,
Sound echoes from wall to wall,
Like a carpet of moving time.
Silently and smooth as I can be
Form your warmth I climb,
Slowly my eyes let me to see
Forms and shapes around me,
So I can reluctantly make my way
To begin again another day.

Softly slow I tread each stair
In a hopefully silent care,
Skipping the fourth one’s creak
Gripping the rail of polished teak
Steadily descending toward the light
Peaking into the eastern window,
Announcing the departing night
Casting newer and longer shadow.
Placing a canvas of purest white
Upon my well used artist stand,
I pause,
I think of you,
And those thoughts guide my hand.