deepundergroundpoetry.com

Meadows Black with Crows

My bed is made in meadows black with crows,        
Where feathered clouds consume the new moon’s light        
And murdered dreams cast spells before they go.  
         
With night so black, the ferry’s scarlet haze          
Stalks shadow forms at river’s final edge        
It’s there I seek your frigid, shallow eyes.        
         
Our pennies glint that make the keeper’s wage,        
A face so drawn, a murky portrait's ghast,        
Skull dancer mask in Muertos’ day regale.        
         
We knew our selves, when mustard dyed the fields,        
The lapis skies betrayed the new day's come,        
In Beltane night, we sang our naked songs.        
         
In parting brought at Frosted ways' diverge,        
The leaves despaired to hide my traveled path.        
But you, at headlong speed into the wood.        
     
The traveled path whose cost was only years,        
With no felled trees, but demons marked the course,        
That brought me to this bed in meadows’ rill.          
         
Their raptors' chant, the prayers of longing sleep,        
I know you have arrived to make our way.          
What tales will tell when we are joined again?        
         
For soon I'll cross to you and take my coins.      
When torches flame to gain me on the road,        
I’ll fare away from meadows black with crows.

Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
Published | Edited 28th May 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3 reading list entries 1
comments 4 reads 842
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 9:03am by slipalong
COMPETITIONS
Today 8:55am by PatsonTheFriend
SPEAKEASY
Today 8:52am by PatsonTheFriend
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:03am by Mstrmnd1923
SPEAKEASY
Today 1:37am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 00:31am by mysteriouslady