By: Paweł Markiewicz
I am through a superb window – looking.
An angel of feeling awakes in me.
The dreamy oak-trees stand alway leafless.
The native auspicious cue is just large.
My scenery – the enchanted verdure.
The moony old barn of Ted my dear nuncle.
I am looking at a proud throng of crows.
They belong to the whiff of every times.
The springtide looks so meek-beauteous-fair,
first and foremost Morningstar – at night.
I daydream springwards window-view withal
of a dreamy Ovidian summer gale.
Homelike herbage that seems to bewitch all.
My cats want to enchant the fantasy.
Dreamed subtle morn withal notably.
gale – archaic: wind
alway – archaic: always
cue – archaic: mood
verdure – green
nuncle – archaic: uncle
throng – archaic: bevy
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