You mean

 You are my ocean at evening's close,
 white moonlight playing where night withdraws.
 You are my pitter-patter of rain,
 ancient soul birthing forever again.
  
 You are my mist-wrapped coverlet,
 tender embrace of words unsaid.
 You are my dew-touched breaking dawn,
 one door carved from the city's stone.
  
 You are my rambling twilight hour,
 how boldly time stumbles in wonder!
 You are my crushed free expression,
 finding you made me whole, complete.
  
 You are my wild tempestuous storm,
 caught fast in love's aftermath!
 You are my fierce ancient care,
 you are my fever, you my rare gem!
  
 You are my powerful treaty made,
 quite content in cotton's soft cage!
 You are my whim-filled feast spread wide,
 though I fast, why worry beside?
  
 You are my thousand questioning words,
 you the answer too, warm with subtle knowing.
 You are some beloved rage of mine,
 broken bonds of days long flowing!
  
 You are my first color's wild smoke,
 when you came, night turned untamed.
 You are my binding, tight as rope,
 you mean crying in life's charade.
  
 You are my twilight just like that,
 like melody's spell in evening's raga.
 You are my moon-wrapped photograph,
 a sun awakened, soul-deep saga.
  
 You are my memory's gentle room,
 when you visit my mind, I smile like a stranger.
 You are my living poetry, I see,
 sometimes I wonder—what am I thinking!