The Book of Love - White Willow

Stars in my pocket like grains of sand

radiant pinpoints, they sting my hand

i grab a fistful, a gift for the breeze

who will carry them far and away with case

stars in my heaven, they turn and turn

like holy fires they burn and burn

and in their pattern my love is spelt

like a sigil of grace in the womb of space

ever as time goes on and on and on

these stars will burn forever

ever as time grows heavy-headed, wan

ever

ever as life goes on and on and on

my heart is yours forever

ever as life grows tired and forlorn

ever