The Cry
By A.M. Gunsolley

In the hoary darkness of the night
A cry takes winged flight.
O'er mountain, o'er glen
It cuts forth and then
It goes screaming,
Or to me it's seeming,
Crying at the night.

In darkness deep,
Where evil sleeps,
I hear this plaintive cry.
A sight unseen,
Though my ears are keen,
In the blinking of an eye.

Feathers flying it goes crying
Screaming at the night.
I see it then and wonder when
I had ever gained such sight.

In darkness then
It flies the wind
Crying at the night.
An owl I see
Which beckons me
To the freedom in it's flight.

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Such a lovely poem...thanks for sharing it ..     

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Imagination is where you let the real you run wild....