The castle songs, they drift tonight,
From Spain to the heights of Palmyra,
They ride the waves beneath moonlight,
Spinning sounds of dulcimer and lyre.
From where do you call, angel of the night,
From what castle, do you, my heart, inspire,
From the depths of my mind, your smile bright,
Stirs the embers of my desire.
So I send this poem, a voice in the wind,
To the angel of the night, I sing,
To a heart as parched as the desert sand,
True love, your kiss will bring.
Like the castle that rules that dusty *****,
O'er Palmyra's arid plain,
I'll wait from this hill with endless hope,
Till my desert's quenched with rain.
Romantic poem stirred up by my looking at photos of the ancient preserved city of Palmyra in Syria.