On Her Blindness
An owl was out to trace
Her prey from night’s full grace.
Moon was pale, slow and full,
Though her mate’s face was dull.
The lake-mirror’s zest fades,
Cool and bashful as brides
Stars adorn the chaste skies,
And turns on the blue nights.
In small house roofs and streets,
Fields and trees, were her treats.
A Glow worm’s lightning made
The old owl’s vision fade.
Whom shall she may complain,
Of the loss of view plain?
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
