A quilts drawn clever in the breeze of fall
as it fits around your shoulder so small I sing
For these threads of my heart shall never grow small
as long as the night moon softly rings.
As long as the heat of the sun is royal
though in its hands it may sometime fade
your heart strays sturdy in love to boil
unless it lies too long in the shade
But as long as your sienna eyes touch
and search these my lonely nights
My heart shall never want for much
only the grace of your moons.