Beneath the quiet rhythm
of the twilight streaming rain,
I craft your name in silken trails
etched in waking, stitched in time.
A clockwork heart beats softly here,
cogs and wheels like wishes turn,
echoing through mist and dream
on wafts of yearning honeyed air.
Ethereal — a serenade whispers,
the gentle pulse of fated streams.
Dandelion seeds afloat,
trigger the springs of a restless soul.