late night interpretations still the seagull sings plaintive; flies around white as a barn owl fooling everyone into thinking He Is The White Ghost Flying
White Barn Owls Fly Around Mimicked By The Seagulls
That poetess flew across the sky; her poems embroidered in red silk . Blazed light bright shining; her smile and wit and weave. And all we are left with is mist; fragrances of her poems perfumes too strong for the sun to eclipse or break through her passing gift.
beauty roused the world from slumber took it by the hand and danced it to freedom on a merry go round and funfair full of- candy and apples- the laughter of forgiven children can now be heard throughout all creation
orange light glow across the bay some ones home small cottage haven from the world free from politics and war the rough and tumble of the market a solitary humble abode breaking darkness this side of the hill homely warm welcome little house