'em times I miss you belle, I lift my pen & I write,
'tales of a nightingale sang through the labyrinth I've for a heart,
'& up on this notes, find I, my footsteps swaying even in the still of the night...
for,
you my love, an eclectic and eccentric woman you are, a wonder of God's art,
'& tis this things you do to show...