Even without my amber light,
still I have a lovely sight,
of darkness on the velvet wall,
of starlight in a winter hall.
The blueness of the burning sky,
the hue of never ending rye.
The light of time and dark of day,
the pearls that weep on darkened bay.
The moon that sleeps upon the lace,
whose hands hold mine in cold embrace.
Forever in this woeful turn,
forever will my blue sky burn.