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Graveyard Crows

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  • sparrowgael
    Graveyard Crows What is it, do you suppose, that goes on in the heads of crows that sit upon the graveyard gate and patiently commence to wait for spirits gone
    Message 1 of 2 , Jul 26, 2011
      Graveyard Crows

      What is it, do you suppose,
      that goes on in the heads of crows
      that sit upon the graveyard gate
      and patiently commence to wait
      for spirits gone awandering;
      these crows in solemn pondering.
      They sit together, wing to wing,
      and sometimes they begin to sing
      in cawing cries the living hear
      as pestilence upon the ear.
      But spirits drifting to and fro
      are savvy to the words of crow.

      "The leaves are gone, the trees are bare,
      a chill has settled on the air
      and here we are, past Samhain's gate;
      and so the hour has gotten late.
      Come on, come on, it's time to go
      if we're to beat the coming snow!"

      But spirits rambling toward the door
      are hesitant, all wanting more
      of all the things they leave behind
      and fearful of what they may find;
      what fate awaits them where they go
      upon the midnight wings of crow?

      They crouch behind their weathered slates
      and silently begin to wait;
      resolving simply to forego
      the cautionary tales of crow.
      But cutting through the creeping mist
      the crows continue to insist:

      "The veil between the worlds is thin
      but if you're late you won't get in
      then wandering will be all you'll do
      if you stay here and can't get through.
      Come on, come back, " the crows all cry,
      "There are worse things than just to die!"

      But spirits do what spirits do.
      Some wait too long and don't get through
      and so, unto the earth they're bound
      and left to molder on the ground.
      They cannot know the sweet repose
      that flew away on wings of crows.

      (c) J. Lorian Young
    • William Burns
      a very nice piece of poetrygood rhyme without the sacrifice of meterexcellent content all told delightfully grim Quixotic as ever William C. Burns, Jr.
      Message 2 of 2 , Jul 27, 2011
        a very nice piece of poetrygood rhyme without the sacrifice of meterexcellent content
        all told delightfully grim

        Quixotic as ever



        William C. Burns, Jr.

        chyfrin437@...





        my life? . . .

        throw in a few flying zombies

        and you'd have an episode of Dr. Who

        --- On Wed, 7/27/11, sparrowgael <j_lorian@...> wrote:

        From: sparrowgael <j_lorian@...>
        Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] Graveyard Crows
        To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
        Date: Wednesday, July 27, 2011, 3:25 AM
















         









        Graveyard Crows



        What is it, do you suppose,

        that goes on in the heads of crows

        that sit upon the graveyard gate

        and patiently commence to wait

        for spirits gone awandering;

        these crows in solemn pondering.

        They sit together, wing to wing,

        and sometimes they begin to sing

        in cawing cries the living hear

        as pestilence upon the ear.

        But spirits drifting to and fro

        are savvy to the words of crow.



        "The leaves are gone, the trees are bare,

        a chill has settled on the air

        and here we are, past Samhain's gate;

        and so the hour has gotten late.

        Come on, come on, it's time to go

        if we're to beat the coming snow!"



        But spirits rambling toward the door

        are hesitant, all wanting more

        of all the things they leave behind

        and fearful of what they may find;

        what fate awaits them where they go

        upon the midnight wings of crow?



        They crouch behind their weathered slates

        and silently begin to wait;

        resolving simply to forego

        the cautionary tales of crow.

        But cutting through the creeping mist

        the crows continue to insist:



        "The veil between the worlds is thin

        but if you're late you won't get in

        then wandering will be all you'll do

        if you stay here and can't get through.

        Come on, come back, " the crows all cry,

        "There are worse things than just to die!"



        But spirits do what spirits do.

        Some wait too long and don't get through

        and so, unto the earth they're bound

        and left to molder on the ground.

        They cannot know the sweet repose

        that flew away on wings of crows.



        (c) J. Lorian Young



























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