[Soaring Feather]

Oh my dear, I am here
just a whim of mine
you hear, the fickle winds
blows fast and low
in the hollows to and fro...

If I'm meant to rhyme in time
Darksheare at the gate will find
this poet has her secrets
to find, her Lancelot at
midnight time, when the wolves
howl and whine, big eyed owls
spook the night, other things
go bump and bang, the Vampires
on the roam do wane
Is this the bane of a midnight poet
without a home, skulking bout
at dusk and dawn?
Chasing down the little fawnn
In the day light she does not show it
looking by the brooks and gullies
in the Land of Ocean Sullies
Starland express and rockets blast
I do come out from the past!

[Soaring Feather]

A mask covers a fragile heart.
Lovely before you
alone the beauty of desire,
neglected time.
Love my limitations...

bentfeather
a/k/a MLH
Copyright (c) 2003
All Rights Reserved