Poems About: RAVEN
Poems on / about :
- carpe diem
Born unto this life,
Winter turned into read more »John Cochrane
I walk down this dark, moonlit road alone.
Feeling like a hollow, empty corpse.
My heart heavy with grief and sorrow. read more »Ellen Kang
135.Traveling with Love's Dark Light
My heart is a graveyard
Full of cobwebbed dirge riddled tombstones
Upon grass desolate of care
As each epitaph reads read more »James Darwin Smith II
Born unto this life,
Winter turned into Spring, read more »John Calvin Cochrane
137.Trapped within the Minds of Poe
Once upon a nightful somber,
entranced within a loreful slumber;
a murky pass it feels to be:
this dream, this world it calls me. read more »Adam M. Snow
138.On The Gum Tree On The Road Side
On the gum tree on the road side I can hear the unmelodious crow
Cawing in the gathering twilight his voice I have come to know
He doesn't seem worried by the weather though it has rained for most of the day
He is proclaiming his borders and Spring doesn't seem that far away. read more »Francis Duggan
139.The timetable of four
The golden glows of sunlight hit me
The smell of freshly cut grass reached me
The sight of freedom exhilarated me
The sounds of birds intrigued me read more »Eben S J
The grand oak tree with a squat body
and huge horizontal arms
extended the whole area.
Surrounded with stone steps read more »Aleyamma Jacob
141.Another Raven Story (A Fable)
It dost speak and live free.
Tamed by men and virtuous scores
The raven's been scarred and bleeding.
'Nevermore should wounds be healed. read more »Dennis Go
142.The Dirge of Wallace
When Scotland's great Regent, our warrior most dear,
The debt of his nature did pay,
T' was Edward, the cruel, had reason to fear,
And cause to be struck with dismay. read more »Thomas Campbell
143.The Raven And The King's Daughter
King’s daughter sitting in tower so high,
Fair summer is on many a shield.
Why weepest thou as the clouds go by? read more »William Morris
Over the black crevice
at noon the ravens rush with rusty cries.
Their shadows touch the deer’s back
and at times they loom in gnarled rest. read more »Georg Trakl