Ahem

Under the radiant silvery moon
arrayed in blue is the mistress Christine
in the envelope of its soft cocoon
unfolds a fable that is most serene

a daughter of the sky stands attentive
as the clouds dance in lunar pirouettes
words jig on the leaf as an incentive
chasing off shadow’s inky silhouettes

solid bone white, the book’s open pages
and giddiness brims in the western sky
a stern look from the wisest of sages
commencement of the lesson draweth nigh

“Ahem,” said Christine, “Grab your pencil please”
but owl exclaimed, “I don’t have any hands!”
“Don’t fret,” said Christine, “This task is a breeze”
Owl acquiesced to her teacher’s demands

her thoughts drift upon a sky of stained glass
sharp talon’s sure grip hang in the balance
while puffy clouds promenade en masse
knowledge covers like a giant valance

sweet dreams of a ring for this superb owl
soft magic woven in evening’s glow
cool moonbeams provide as the classroom’s cowl
while brilliant questions stand row upon row

white clouds prance and it’s as good as it gets
as unseen eyes from the mist watch with glee
leaves sit on the branches like epaulets
laughter rings out like a soliloquy

the winged sprite’ s titian feather mane
the fantasies which can encapsulate
freely bring to life with the arts arcane
a portal meant as Elysian’s gate

mystical currents, spells of great technique
these most radiant circle which you weave
emergence with the satin words you speak
magic spun into life if you believe

big golden eyes like a jewelled brocade
with regal bearing of a paragon
conjoined perfect threads so deftly arrayed
her eyelashes like the finest chiffon

keeper of the sacred, dancer of grace
weaver of spells between shadows and dreams
slender contours designed of silk and lace
forest alive, with your essence it teems

foundations set, molten rivers of gold
time finally met in this endeavor
master of players, sweet mysteries old
ruling this realm from now and forever

midnight now pulls everything together
Christine’s book is a mirror reflection
unspoken words are light as a feather
Ahem’s waltz is so close to perfection

the orb gazes down on Ahem’s owl wings
the mistress’s grip loosens in sweet release
Sun bows in honour, the tide at last sings
ripples and doubt can now finally cease