Mother night, bend down Your sheltering embrace, enfold Me in Your cloak of darkness, hide Me from My cares, let Your night breeze caress My face like a lover... Give Me Your stars to shine down upon Me, and let Your moon light My path with ghostly glow, that I may safely find My way...  down to the place where My lover waits, waits with a longing deeper than the dark of night... Where, under Your protection, I will take her longing, join it with My own, and together W/we will revel in You, till Dawn herself compels U/us to withdraw...

A lady’s bedroom, at night….late Victorian England…upper class, on a fashionable avenue.  The room is lit by many candles…everywhere there are the scents of incense and perfume…the air is redolent with sandalwood and spices from the far corners of the Old Queen’s empire.  A beautiful young woman lounges on a daybed, on the edge of sleep, on the fringes of a dream.  In her hand, ready to fall, a book of verse, Shelley…she is draped in soft and lovely silk night clothes, and through these light fabrics her delightful body is tantalizingly almost visible….

 

Outside, in the cool night air….by the open window, He waits…watching, waiting, wanting…His hunger for her is centuries old.  His eyes devour her, roam over her body the same way He wanders the nighttime streets of this timeless city…many He was hunted, many taken, but none, ever, have taken Him as this one has captured His desire…and awakened feelings in Him that had slumbered, unremembered, for nearly a thousand years….

 

His gaze travels over her, hungrily…sees her delicate small hands, and longs for their touch…watches the rise and fall of her chest, and longs to feel her breath against his cheek…but always, always His eyes return to Her throat…

she sits before the mirror, runs the brush through her fine hair,

Smiles faintly at her own reflection in the silvered, gold-framed glass,

Then she's startled, for a moment, as she senses something there,

But as quickly as the feeling came, just as quickly does it pass

 

He stares, His eyes aglow with fire, the hunger in Him great,

Gazes longingly on her soft, sweet, radiant beauty,

He's watched her for a long time, and has been content to wait,

He's stood this vigil as if it were His sacred duty

 

she is humming to herself, now, but the tune she does not know,

Though she can hear the music, plainly, in her head,

And to herself, she's been repeating, quietly; soft and slow,

A phrase that's in a language more than a century dead

 

He smiles, and sends a waltz to her, inviting her to dance,

With words He hasn't spoken to another in a lifetime,

Then, closing His eyes, He decides to take a chance,

Feeling certain at last that this is the right time

 

she is setting down the silver brush now, and rising from her chair,

she does not know why, but she wants to be in motion,

she begins to move about the room as if she's floating on the air,

her heart is pounding, as she's swirling with emotion

 

He steps from behind the curtain, not yet willing her to see,

But dancing with her, staying just beyond her reach there,

Though in her arms is the only place He ever wants to be,

Yet knowing His own hunger, He does not yet dare

 

Then at last He goes to her, and takes her in His arms,

she feels Him, but can't see Him; still, she's dancing with Him now,

He searches through her thoughts, and does not sense alarm,

Instead she feels protected, even though she can't say how

 

T/they are waltzing for a moment more, then T/their feet are off the ground,

And He decides to finally let her see Him there,

All at once, she knows she's flying, and she knows He holds her 'round,

But she's not afraid; she doesn't seem to even care

 

And so He knows He's found more than an end of hunger here,

And she knows she's found a Man to love, forever,

T/they take it all in in a moment, and it all seems crystal clear,

That N/neither will be without the O/other, ever