She Comes Not
by Herbert Trench
She comes not when Noon is on the roses--
Too bright is Day.
She comes not to the Soul till it reposes
From work and play.
But Night is on the hills, and the great Voices
Roll in from Sea,
By starlight and candle-light and dreamlight
She comes to me.
This art journal was made for one of my Halloween swaps this year. Inside I attached a black lace pocket with some spooky tags. This digital piece of artwork can by ordered from Moonlight Journey. Thanks, once again, to the talented Becky Loyall of Whymsical Musings.