For you I’d steal the cloth of heaven,
And rob Orion of his seven,
To weave a cloak surpassing bright,
That’d light your way this winter night.
I’d draw it round your shoulders so
When evening came you would not go.
You’d stay a while to chat and laugh,
If darkness did not claim your path.
December was not made for love –
The heart’s not moved by scarf and glove.
But I see the spring within your eyes:
An April shower; dawning skies.
And when you smile at me as I walk past,
I think of sunlight streaming on the grass.