Owl Mistress

From the greenwood hear the hooting,
From its mistress’ steady shoulders
The wise bird is softly calling.

Light is falling through the foliage,
Charming the woman’s marble skin,
In her amber pendant dancing,
On her owlet’s feathers gleaming.

The lady harkens to the forest,
Hearing the trees calmly breathing,
Then discerns a distant footfall,
And the wind takes up
Her call of welcome,

© jsmorgane (May 2010)