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.