At World's End Poem by Jesse Kloos

O love, my love, I bid thee come and rest
Beside me here, upon this pier, and stare
At ripples kissing moonlight as they crest;
Like drowning hopes in desperate search of air.

Now turn thine eyes to mine and them appraise;
Is not their desperate glimmer brighter still?
'Tis not the moon which sets their hopes ablaze,
Nor could a thousand stars such light instill.

What can, in night's domain, this light bestow—
When heaven's eye its course has long since run?
Ask not, my love, for surely thou must know;
'Tis thee—it's always been—thou art my Sun.

So take my hand and in my sky ascend,
And share thy days with me, till the world's end.