Raven's Curse

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 -