[Cologne scented parchment is found littered in the newsboards]
- - - - - - - - - -


A windcutter floats o’er romantic tides
as one seeks to caress the moonlit skies
laced deftly in exalted stars applied
by brushes dipped in hues of a lover’s eyes.

The kisses beneath resistance bridge in spring
feels like the first so many years ago.
On every breeze, the bard he sings
a serenade in city is aglow.

This desire of patronage rekindled miles from home,
could be our chance to dream and reminisce.
Enlightened by a full moon’s wink, we’d roam
down the Shuun'eludiela in gleaming nights of bliss.

Our renaissance, a second honeymoon -
to Cyrene, You could not escape too soon.
Our hospitality here unfurled in grandiose display,
the invitation stands, if you should desire it today.

- - - - - - - - -

Desire for the Desire.

Sincerely,

The Cyrenians entranced by You

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Glacian, in the year 853 AF.

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