I keep a jar filled
With stardust next to my bed
Every night it shines
I found it on a hill
To which the wandering road led
Amidst the scarlet grapevines
There I had paused, and used my quill
Inked word upon word, left unsaid
Indeed I wrote, as if all the world was mine
When I stood to leave, I found a jar filled
With stardust, in the lovely mead’
And every night, it shines