My mistress has a
voice so sweet
melodic to melancholy
but it can change
anguish to anger
as she shouts so loud
for all to hear
that she has spoken
loud and clear.
The window rattles
I lay awake
on this cold morn.
Whist listening
my Mistress howl
her lonely song
she sounds forlorn.
Wailing
so desperately
her despair
echoes
as her tone
fills my empty room.
A distant din
her voice attacks
all flora and fauna
surrounding my garden,
they do not stand a chance
against my lady’s frustration.
Silence falls
as she withdraws
her windy expression
just for a moment
until once more
she raises her voice
to blow away
this bluest morning.
MedusaMoon c 2013
