There is a secret, private time, when I’m allowed to dream…
The room is dark and quiet, but sleep will not arrive…
My eyes adjust to darkness and I make out the faint gleam
Of moonlight through the curtains. I feel then most alive….

And that is when I think of her; she has become my muse
This time of inspiration is when she seems most clear
I think then of our story: which images to use?
And that is when I fantasise… that she is with me here

My mind fills up with memories, snatched moments from the past
Of when our eyes met in a room, or when I touched her skin.
I think of what I’ve written, and if I’ve been too fast
In moving her, persuading her … to let me in.

My love for her is virtual; it takes place in my mind
But Oh! she is so beautiful, it seems so very real
I see her eyes, her limbs, her smile in everything I find,
She has a power over me that seems to make me feel

Intensely. We communicate in many different ways
Through music; coded messages, by which we almost kiss
I almost taste her lips, her tongue, I almost stroke her face
I almost hold her tightly in my arms. I always miss.

And so I feel the gravity, I can’t resist the power
I see the darkened, northern sky, I see her guiding light
I see her face before me in the lateness of the hour
I feel her lips close to my ear, whispering… goodnight.