Ravenend Frost

Ravenend Frost Poems

In wee hours does he awake daily;
Walking down the frosty path,
Beyond the village to the fields of barley,
To harvest the crop ‘neath the Hills of Goliath.
...

A mist filled in the empty streets,
With naught a sound, all souls’ asleep,
A gang of men hither came to meet,
Who traded bags and secrets to keep.
...

A wind of thought brushed my brow
And tottered the hair to and fro,
I wonder when the grass will grow,
When will the Somerlett glow?
...

A Spoken poem, speak it out loud, do not sing it, and you will know of the Lore of the Lord of Monsoon.

Nedbør
...

Celestial Horde

From the skies they rouse,
Filling the coast with fog
...

In times uncountable but not so old
There in an ancient city not so young
Were forests dense and mountains cold
Rolled up into a lore that is ghostly sung.
...

When the Moon arouse in the east,
And crimson skies streaked in west,
Sea glimmered in the evening starlight
And the sun sank in the deep blue twilight.
...

The Best Poem Of Ravenend Frost

Harvest

In wee hours does he awake daily;
Walking down the frosty path,
Beyond the village to the fields of barley,
To harvest the crop ‘neath the Hills of Goliath.

Overlooked by the mighty silhouettes
And darkest sky with a tinge of blue;
His scythe hacks the wetted spikelets
As dawn breaks to clear the hue.

The rustling ears fall to the moist earth,
And he gathers the golden seeds,
This is wealth that for him is worth,
For that is all his family needs.

His day ends with a cascade of task,
‘Til the Goliath shadows mask
The barley fields sway on the wintry night,
And he rests his body on bed in delight.

In wee hours does he awake everyday,
To harvest ‘neath the Goliath the Gray;
For us a new day may be gallant and gay,
But for him it’s just like any other day.

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