She comes...

She comes, when all that’s sacred looms before me
When all my twilights transform to mornings
In robes celestial that kiss her ankles
Rainbowed jewels scintillating glisten
And serpents bestial hissing dangle
Where once were but tresses flower christened

Upon silent seas she will churn them
Past demons warring she will turn them
Cleaving the sky with her mighty rod
She comes to crown her evening god

She comes, while wooing wolves to flock beside
And with panting breaths warm the air
That wily air through which she glides
Soothed with hushed and enchanted lullabies

She comes...