When the stars twinkle so bright, what wishes on them alight?
When Cubit’s arrow struck true, who saw the marks on the shaft?
Rare sands, so fine, run faster, silver words fall at clay feet.
The Blue Moon through chill air arcs as it slips into retreat.
Though replete with Lunar glow, are some Lovers just ill met?
The Hunter changes region while cold dew coats each regret.