#Queenowl.

A soft cry streaming , the skies mirrored her eyes
Her skin camouflaged the pale fallen leaves tossed on the parched earth.
An amazing faberge.
The crotchet needle turned and twisted
It wove the whites ,blacks and brown yarn
Life streamed.

A nocturnal spirit's sojourn awaits,
My orchards green, echoes the screamings at midnight.
Smoky eyes ,
speculating dreams on skeletal trees,
where the barks melt ...