My lady of mist and fog
A monet to my eye
Where doth thou lie
In the suspended droplets of night
Echoing in the slicing of lamp light
Beside my blushing cry
I can’t imagine why

When I’m alone treading the cobblestone
With the moon slipping below the world
You call me home
To the place that is our own
To the fountain where we used to throw smooth river stones
And make kindlings of our feverous dreams
Wishing our lives more than they seem

The fountain is no more than an arid waste
Covered in mossy decay as it gets eaten away
Why couldn’t you stay?
I still hear your melody blowing off the reflections
By the harbour we sought to escape
Into the briny sea where you turned to nereid