The evening’s gone so quiet now
There’s no sound in the world
And so my mind’s consumed with how
Your hand in mine is curled

Your eyes are shut, and so your hand
Is still and calm and soft
All troubles of the day are banned
From you; your heart’s aloft

The trees stand tall and proud as if

They stand guard o’er the land

The mountains rise and scrape the sky

Wrought by a heav’nly hand

And as the river winds its way

Through hill and plain and stone

It sings a low, eternal song

Of air and earth and bone

I have not broken bread with kings
And people of the court
But those for whom the poet sings
Are not of great import

There’s quiet in the waiting for
A long-expected thing
Anticipation, almost more
Than that which is nearing
And in that quiet, energy
That drives the heart to pound
Excitement for what may yet be
What lies there to be found

Don’t fret, my love, o’er passings things
That float off with the breeze
Nor listen to the voice that sings
Of joys that it will seize

Upon my heart lay now your ear
And hear the rhythm strong
Its life is yours, and what you hear
Is love’s unending song

The soldier asked the pirate why
He plundered ‘long the coast
The pirate asked, “Why would you die
Defending those with most?”

A quiet corner without noise

In which to nestle tight

Free from the hecticness of day

And like to solemn night

If I could ride a boat along
The endless stream of time
And listen to the eerie song
It sings bereft of rhyme

I wonder what wonders I’d see
And who I would become
Were I from this spacetime-point free
To with the time-stream hum

The storm brought howling winds and rain
Endless and singing loud
Crashing against the windowpane
The trees outside unbowed

And after it had passed, the world
Grew soft and sat in wait
And in my corner there I curled
Till quiet did abate