The mists of the forest shimmered in the early morning sun

A monster I was shed as my form returned

Staring in awe at the glow of a conquering goddess

Whose smile eclipsed the woodland autumn shine

To my knees I fell as she cradled misshapen physique

Nights still destroying my essence

Who be thee I cried into her bosom

In death you shall know

This poem was written by my son Brooke Miller-Osborne and I have published it here for the first time