I brought you something
In the middle of my drought
Cradled in my palm
Fingers splayed about

Carefully I crafted it
With my fingers and my thoughts
To be just what you'd need
And maybe fill in those spots

Freely given, I suppose
Neatly arranged
With the seasoning you like
The perfect exchange

A little dance or two
Around the tiny dell
And thereabout I rested
Whereabout I fell

The sound of gold on stone
And a river ere happens by
This cold night's embrace I know
But not the arms of thy

All I gave to you
Emptied out my pack
Yet now your ears avert
Your closed eyes see only black

I would tell you
Should you aim a lobe my way
The time with you was gold
I'd spend it any day

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Chronos, in the year 1013 AF.