Midsummer nightfall, crickets symphony of love's sorrow, I'm asleep next to the slowly whirring fan, dreaming of a dream. Screen window, starshine, and the moon a shy crescent, dreaming of a dream ~ as you wept so lorn in my dream, and I awake weeping, train whistle blows as it wends its way so lonely on a mystical mission journey. I never meant to wound your fragile spirit, and, I, in my aching contrition, dream of a glowing white sacred dove, with your slain heart of cherish, in her devotion of heavenward flight to comfort you this grieving night. ~