Maybe there's just one star in the sky.
Harbor it, keep it, you and I.
Our secret gem, our weekend retreat,
char on the path to which we sneak.
A day of rememory of the crisp night air.
12:10 in the woods; sweet speech in my ear.
Drissle turns to downpour which electrifies the dark.
A towel dabs a leak where the roof splits with bark.
I vaguely remember slipping into a taxi.
A light! Our star! Seen from the back seat.
Another! Two stars? And more, and more
lining the way to my front door.
Too many! That's enough!
They are burning my face!
Oh no! Oh dear!
And it all went blank.