#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
their gums,
shed their fears and water the sun burnt mushrooms.

How the perennial colours of sunsets and sunrise whisk ,
her kaleidoscopic eyes .
Halloween angels delight in her eerie melodies strumming o'er the dale,
The winged owl,
her vast domain lies furled in colourless moonlight.
The queen of supreme night, reigns .

She's a nun,
praying on a philanthropic note
in the cool greyness that stings
the mystery and fear groping the world ,
I hear her chants that segregate the glowworm's spark ,
float and cast an intercession.
A saint be less
Mightier than her ,
Whose wisdom guided Athene noctua , Minerva.

NG.2022🍁
© Lizbeth