Waking from a strange dream
I hear the fatal bellman toll.
‘Tis Macbeth’s owl
Signifying death.
A warm bed
On a dark October morn.
My fancy
And the cold note of an owl hunting.
Waking from a strange dream
I hear the fatal bellman toll.
‘Tis Macbeth’s owl
Signifying death.
A warm bed
On a dark October morn.
My fancy
And the cold note of an owl hunting.
Don’t get out of bed. Pull the covers over your head. You can come out next month.
Thanks Tess. But there is no one to bring me breakfast in bed …! You wouldn’t want me to starve, would you?! Kevin
You won’t starve. Stay in bed. It’s a dangerous time coming. I’ll bring you breakfast if I can, but cannot promise. The way is long and not without pitfalls roadblocks and danger lurks for the rest of this month.
Thank you Tess …!
You are welcome. Ha ha.
Reblogged this on newauthoronline and commented:
Sitting in my living room this evening, I heard the distinctive voice of an owl in the garden. His cry reminded me of this post. Kevin