Friday, December 11, 2009

Somnolence

Raucous crows command the morning
crying their collective caw
as we approach the barren slumber.

Skies grow dim with little warning
darker than a demon’s maw
as raucous crows command the morning

coming back in greater number
than the old ones ever saw,
an omen of the barren slumber.

Blaring blue-black fruit adorning
trees will rub your senses raw,
when raucous crows command the morning

bending branches they encumber,
clamoring with beak and claw
to usher in the barren slumber.

Their harsh reports are ever scorning
order, for they loathe the law;
if raucous crows command the mourning,
so begins the barren slumber.

3 comments:

Gerry Boyd said...

very nice meter going on here. i think the repetition works very well also.

Dimps said...

Hello Bob,

Nice subject & last four lines are great!

Regards,
Dimple
http://poemshub.blogspot.com

rch said...

hey thanks gerry!

hi dimps, thanks to you also.