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Three in the morn; when
Sunlight’s sister’s reflected splendour
Slips in nimble stranded shadows
Through the thinning fabric
Stretched not full across my window frame.
In a long drawn breath she sighs, strokes
With fingers insubstantial my sleeping furniture,
My stood still miscellanea, ethereal
In a solemn, silver, lonely light.
My eyes won’t close, but focus sharp
On a room I forget exists in slumber.
Hushed.
An owl wickers wild outside, reminds me of
My solitude.
And I move my gaze to the ceiling, dappled,
Where the shadow of a stalking tabby,
Pads with me, silent, the fragile path,
Meandering back into my dreams.
©2008-2009 ~AlannaJohan
:iconalannajohan:

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:iconkirel-kemmetmau:
Such a clear and imaginative description of moonlight.

--
"Though both are bound in the spiral dance, I would rather be a cyborg than a goddess."

-Donna Haraway

Occasionally, by accident, I am a jerk. When I am, please let me know, and, if the situation warrants it, hit me with a blunt object.
:iconnicoja:
So lovely. The words trip along so gracefully, the use of alliteration is fantastic. And I love how it shows the world still exists when we are not there to watch it.

--
Stories keep the memories alive.
:iconalannajohan:
Thank you kindly for your comments and observations - your time and thoughts aree much appreciated.

--
Divided Creativity:

Portraiture: ~AlannaJohan-Imagery

Words: ~AlannaJohan
:iconalannajohan:
Thank you most kindly.

--
Divided Creativity:

Portraiture: ~AlannaJohan-Imagery

Words: ~AlannaJohan

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September 23, 2008
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