“Come to me in the adumbration of the night,
The hopeless longing of the day I bare for thee,
Come to me in the adumbration and caress my brow
I suffer so without you my love to be near,

I say love why languish when we were near,
Why do I see a haunted visage afore your face,
I am enigmatic on days we are not met dowager,
I will be well in the morn to know you did not chicanery,

The acumen there I can't see in dew of squalor.
I shall not always be visage abject and mute,
We are not made to live in an eternity of lachrymose,  
The night whose arrant bosoms relieve the torment,

As while in the dark I shall hide my heart that exudes,
Sparkling stars above and the crag of oxygen you proffer,    
This is when we will plant and on other days shall reap,
Planting of beguiling limbs afore me savory peplum,

Nights will more than profit from day’s rueful longing,
To know that your presence will take away my trepidation”
By A. Guzaldo 07/07/2018 ©