Howling's Winds, Whisper Within Poem by eve Taylor

Whisper's,

calling sweetly,

howling from within,

winter's bitter wind,

bodily shivers,

like little slivers,

of intuitive sense,

as if in an instant,

an instance of time,

their call and rhyme,

heard on this night time,

like a beckoning chime,

from within shadows,

cast by a mysterious prey,

under moon light's,

softly bright wishing night,

closing her eyes,

without a fright,

she listened,

sweetly to the night,

beautifully caught bright,

of instinct's knowing sight,

her mind drifting,

as if swept away,

to a sweet moment,

perhaps another timeline,

of a moment's of time,

howling's of lucidity,

a feverish lucidly,

guided by,

a bey of prey,

in a sense of night's,

lovely way,

of sweetly play.