My Angel and the Stars

The sky has already darkened.
In this vast tapestry of midnight ,
a handful of stars pluck themselves out of the ink,
to lay their sparking bodies out to dry.

The dew covered grass touches my skin.
The stars glow in approval, light and cool themselves.
In the presence of such beauty I do not dare to sleep.
The warm wind rocks me gently.
As drifting is not sleeping, I give into its whim.

I hold myself and speak softly, explaining all I see.
I tell him of the cool wet grass, warm wind and diamond stars.
I say that I can hardly wait, but he may take his time.
I'll wrap him up and bring him out to see the stars himself.

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