Come Lover Mine

In village Taraigh smoky limbs - gaunt grey arms akimbo twirl an' sweep from stumpy stacks, peep faces from chimneys to dark night falling whilst 'draggled' owl cedes to instincts navigation near done, over from-by this old beast dying was time when ancients told an owl's screech oft heralds its sleep of fame full blameless that the echoes 'cross valley an' path to peaks play welcome to another world.. but nobody told who unlocked the way to Great Tawny there in the midst of Gharigh Bael sits he a'bough watching grime-grey shadows seep midnight dark eating holes 'bout mourning Moon's faint reflection - hiding his face 'neath sentry Sirius' soft wing, feebly stretching invisible path 'cross Sloulti tarn this - his many years wise-royal realm filled full to brim of beasts a'plenty of tales told of the heat of slate.. '.. avoid the rise of the grey gasp born of earth flames burned from northern old oak once the rest of my night the home of my love.. ' the poet heaves a solemn sigh hears moans of winter come crisping an' crunching the sharp sheen of holly to raw rich silver an' in a nearby coppice trembles a proud full stag holding tears at bay with sucking gums remembering the sound of his friend's wings sweeping space in the dull of midnight barley sugar stack loses helm to the murk of smoke-smudged Monday comes now Basaillun Mort with song-smiling face alive . an' - soft from velvet night far beyond in the best of brightling space an owl calls in woman tone 'Come lover mine, come fly.'