A crescent, well it's Eid;
fair canvas and a search,
for the face of a king in tears:
Lear of the English Isles.
Then the sprays during lounge;
a conference, all relaxed.
Twenty shots started it all,
two curly heads and all that's fun.
The winning moment later came,
her smile and the clue I grabbed.
She, the reason; us both, a season;
and the joust in wind and rain.
The couch and the inevitable stretch,
a sleepy twist with her dear voice near.
Music added the final spice,
the lunch after a dance with dolls.
Gods on a pyramid wall, ah ha!
The splendour began at the twelve bell.
Slow sways and the lull of love,
from life to the forgotten rut.
Make a wish, I see a moving mount;
simple one, let's stop the clock.
tick... tick, aye my heart lives,
drenched, quenched and ready for more.
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