“Almost here with me, you seem to be, you do,
every song, each sound, that’s new, is you,
almost is enough, if just for me you are,
passionate, my blood will boil for you, my star,
of you I think when raindrops pure,
make you seem like sky, or clouds, or sun, or stars; -
the stars, afar from, always shining soft,
each evening, their light is needed, for needs do come oft…”