Soul Hour Power

Blown beyond summer's triangle stars
The clouds made way for the setting moon
And the campfire wood that newly chars
By way of kindling combustion tune
Gently applying to overwhelmed ears
A sound thrice sacred to my lunacy
And for which I provide three silent cheers
To emphasize an importunacy
Beseeching that maintenance of repose
Best lit by moonbeams and firelight
And whichever way the starlight glows
All through the middle of a summer night
Whose hours reestablish a soul
As less traffic helps with traffic control.