The many silvered sky
shines through the evening dusk
like silent threads of gossamer
tied with the sweet owls cusp.
The happy moon in brightness
craves the owl to spread her wings
and glide in heavens shadows
while the woodland faerie sings.
The trees in moonlight shafts,
glow, half lit and chilled,
while she, entranced and barefoot
walks within them, thrilled.
In cool acceptance, mistily
the magical, mystery wood
displays its wondrous spectres
in a secret starlit mood.
And when the morning breaks
sweet birdsong fills the air,
magic of another kind
carries nature’s spirits there.
Waf
Leave a Reply