A Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey

I sat amidst the stars so bright

And looked down upon the earth at night

I saw a small starlight, candlelight

Glowing in the window's sight

And at the desk in cloak so black

Was a man that did write

He wrote about the heaven's sound

And how it vibrated all around

And penetrated every heart

Which was soft to feel, a tremor light

I crash the cymbals quiet, so high

 A few miles above Tintern Abbey in the sky

Feather, the sprills and sprawling lines

the folds of my clothes

Rustling above the moon

the oaks

Of the forest with curving leaves

That re-thick and thin and


And so I sit here miles above the Abbey

And play in harmony with

The percussionary scratch of the pen

Of my little friend in his

Black cloak near the 

Window so bright and loud with light.