CROOKED HANDS.PART.5

Broken tentacles,pecking leaves daintily,flit they from startled night.With the moonbeam parting rays,sinking behind aloof hills spray carols by lovely Whippowil,over yonderwood crowned hill its curtain twillight drops,sofly over fields to hear Whippowil sing.His song bed veiled,dusky with music throbs and thrills,adorns the nightways with warm and musky over meadows`fluting cry ghostly grim startling,charmed out of twilight esoteric dim,solemn lay birds,lay lonely in joyless night.