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Sonnet 18/5/03                      DCCCXIX

The night is silver, with a muse's moon
Shining upon my heart. How can I fear,
When even shadows seem to dance to tune,
And all my thoughts are of one I hold dear?
What would dryad desire, to fulfill dreams,
In payment for all that she gives my heart?
What might I give, when all of vision seems
To be of one who causes dreams to start?
How can I show my dreams, and my heart share?
Only words now have chance to touch her cheek,
Or brush her lips. To tell her how I care:
How can I not spend dream, to presence seek?
She is my muse, and source of my heart's light:
I hold to vision even without sight.