Untitled (murder of crows)

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To wisdom that suggests this verse I may write,
Over and over, I heard, as crows, sang my name
I witness their presence assist the ocean’s might
While musing, on their stories, decades of fame.

Believe woe is ephemeral but then everything is
When our souls have learned love’s pang to bear
Can not think of a thought not wrapped with his
Oh, even more, when a murder of crows, appear.

With arms, outstretched, fear I am, barely afloat
While death, above impatient, to mount and ride
The crows, they observe me as I moored my boat
Beseech so as to why, my verse is barren of pride.

The waves, beryl and billowing, soon die away
As feverish dreams that bloom, wilt and decay

 

Photo credits:Β Pinterest

Form: Shakespearean Sonnet

Posted for Poems in April @ Real ToadsΒ 

Posted on Open Link Night @ dVerse Pub

38 thoughts on “Untitled (murder of crows)

  1. paul scribbles says:

    As is often the case you write with a romantic’s pen and though there is darker element at play even when the prompt is crow the romantic lurks.

    • Sanaa says:

      Thank you so much, De πŸ˜€ so glad you enjoyed it ❀️

      (Oooh now you have me wondering that too! πŸ˜€ )

  2. Gina says:

    Absolutely adored this piece. Especially as I had mused over crows on the beach this last week*not something I had witnessed before* XXX

  3. Marina Sofia says:

    I don’t think it’s just the picture that makes me think of the Pre-Raphaelites – it’s the sonnet form and the language as well, something solemn and mysterious about it.

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