Candlelight, that musty smell
A book - perhaps the one that fell
Like the tree outside, her name unknown
Crashed to the ground - on ice was strewn
The window is much different now
A view less filled with life
Though bats and birds are flying 'round
Her image plagues my mind
But anyway, that book that fell
Revealed mold
It was that smell!
I picked it up and blew the dust
Its color that of old, red rust
"Meditations" read the cover then
With markings of a fountain pen
I sat it down, my tea cup tall
And thought how trees
Are the most stoic of all

On the clouds
I lie
Candlelight
Illuminates the night like
a firefly
I am deep, far-fallen
into the land of sleep
Mars' volcanic activity
Giving light 
To my dreams

I am calm

Romantic, isn't it?
The giant, blue, ice-cold
Air flurries, quickly
Hydrogen and helium
Methane ice - like an oddly-
flavored slushie, likely unpalatable
But surely nice to see
So far from Helios' reach
A blizzard of cerulean rushes across
A mass so great
It would require Herculean strength
To move her but an inch
Mathematically predicted
And there she was
A beautiful, azure conclusion
To our solar system

Well-tempered
As Bach's staccato joy takes hold
Of Book 1: Prelude No. 3
A clavier so mild, calm
Lagavulin-scented air
Peat moss, weather fair
The happy harpsichord
And the placid piano
Join in my glass
Mingling, giving the whisky
A nuance
Of elegance
Balancing the burn
Excellently

Underneath a moonlit
sonata, you and I
Beethoven's audience
A love, a wonder, alive

You're curious - as am I
Your soft breaths - I've learned
a new lullaby

I think I'll sleep well tonight

D minor
Rembrandt's finer
Paint, oils, a breakfast
of red grapes and green olives
with Homer
Aristotle gazes
Admiration for a bust
An odyssey of emotion
Somewhere in the dust
Bach's fugue is overwhelming
Travelling back in time
Moving skulls around
To rest and surround
Socratic dialogue
resounds
leather-bound, a work of art