The Calling

About my own wonderings.

As the sky fades into blissful evening, again, the calling.   She finds herself once again,on the late night walk of enchantment. A peace she longs for every night! Always being drawn to this place of mist and stone. As the Moon smiles on her skin ,and the sweet smell on the wind takes her breath away, through the gate she goes. Relief of pain unspeakable, leaves ,and reknews her once again.  For what town, place or country, it matters not, the calling ! Many places, with gates and stones, why thy beckon her she does not know !                              By  JoAnn Conkey (Thunder)

Reviews

[Edmund S. Obumba]

witty!

[SHEEMA HUQ]

There is an other worldy feel about this fantasy fiction poem, leaving me compelled to discover where this transtory journey of her's was going to take her. Thanks.