A Lost Poem

Fair phantom, come I/ The moon’s awake,
The owl hoots gaily from its break,
Come, soar to yonder silent clouds,
The other teems with peopled shrouds –
The cadaverous bat’s a-wing,
We’ll fly the lightsome spectre crowds,
Until the morning dove awakes,
Thou cloudy, clammy thing!


As I was sifting through my files on my computer I came across this poem that I had written back in May and thought it would be a great idea to share it. It was the result of some experimenting and using descriptive words that were new and interesting to me in place of ordinary words.

Author: Macbofisbil

Welcome to "Macbofisbil: An Awesome Mind", a place where you will find all sorts of interesting stories, pictures, and advice on life in general.

All thoughts are welcome

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