Here in the company of poplars and pines,
Where ever-roaming clouds do slide through your bars
Even as butterflies ballet among leaves
And leave me all dazed with splendours of sense
That still would all glitter and shimmer without end,
At night as I fixate on light-dotted vales
Which glimmer as if diamonds are splattered on your screen
Bright beyond all that is known, done and seen.
In the next room, I hear my dad cough;
And all the stars dim their lights.