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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Poet: Ken Jordan Poem: A Raven's Curse Edited by: Sparkle Jordan written: February/2015 On a late January, (winters night), when once wake eyes now sleeping, dogs now howling, and cats now screaming - And the lull of a torrentially rainy season - has sink to a drought - Now to realize that the harsh wet winter, so glum and bitter, has vaporized to mere droplets, is dreadful - A obnubilate fog, thick and eery, persist to float quietly, gloomy and dreary - While seven giants, stand rising with arms to the sky - statuesque, beneath ominous clouds. The creepy, crackling noise from (tree giants), statue still, came forth, a pendulum sway - rocking back and forth, so dark, so grim - shaking through gale force winds, to activate hidden fears- Through the darkness, and cold black starless night, waylay a fowl, in the shadowed - black in the blue moon light - dark shadows crawl through giants maze - something restless in a particle haze - Yet, nervously thy stand, to a solitary voice/ gurgling from the arms of giant trees? "What is this?" that speaks no voice? " What gurgle's and lurks, in giant redwood trees - Who are you? A dream, a nightmare, to wake from sleep - Time slips fast, as seconds go past, and the gurgle voice, fades to a soft audible, a hear-less hush - Thy dour howling winds, witness a baneful gurgling of such, in giant trees - Suddenly, the mysterious noise fades in the melancholy, and despondent night - Sleep calling, thy walk away, in the dense dawning light - So I go to thy dwelling door, and hear a baleful croaking - which - awakened fears once-more. And the voice resonated loudly, through the arms of giants - thy feet still - stuck! like quicksand - caught in the shadows of a ghost, black as night, croaking, in giant trees.... giant redwood trees. And the minacious, wicked sounding "call," cloaked a steady sense of foreboding. Screams ring out, in the melancholy, and despondent night - What do you want? You are not real!" I lament -silently, amid haunting whispers, sorrow and grief - The saturnine voice echoed clearly, through the thick fog so dreary. Whispering - "A solitary Raven, perched in giant trees, giant redwood trees, is a fowl of mystery; a premonition bird of black, dark as shadows." "Wait!" Art thou the omen, to bring forth glowering presentiment? No acceptance shall thy render to this invisible imagination. Thy dream no more, thus, shall not be contested - Be there no raven!...no raven, in giant redwood trees - be gone no omen, decease! So go now, in faith, thou walk with no evil - no raven! be gone, no omen.. decease! Darkness, and shadows fade invisible - morrow joyful, no shadow silhouette - Quietly, and calm, no wind, no storm - a lone dove fly's - (c). copyright 2015 all rights reserved -
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