[Old Sarge]

I do so long to see a time
of quiet solitude,
A time of silence, wuthering winds,
a night of sweet etude,
The cries of battle, clangor of wars,
would not intrude this place,
the only sounds and sights would be
my lady's sighs and face.

The Dance goes on, here in these halls,
secure from fire and storm,
where the only arms are not of war,
but of lovers, safe and warm,
the clarion sounds upon the field,
the footfalls loud with dread,
but the soft padding of the Posts' Dance
is what I hear instead.

[Soaring Feather]

I wait then for thee
in the quiet of the hour
when all that is heard is soft breathing
on the half hour -
the night flower blooms
sends her sweet aroma round the room
solitude is the drink in which we imbibe
gazing into each other's eyes

In my lover's warm, strong arms
I behold the miracle of honor,
trust, adoration, and valor
and the soft swish of Velvet
moving over a bodice

And so dear White Knight
the bell tolls late
the guard at the gate
doth await the rising moon
and the trumpet's blare
the night hounds run
but in silence we hold
our sacred vow
Forever is ours.

[StarCMC]

You are sounding weary. A few more days to go and then hopefully you can rest, soldier! HUGS!!