The dark shadow of a large corvus <br />A mere crow, <br />No'a bird far larger far more supreme, <br />The harbinger of doom so they say <br />As if cast from some dark dream. <br /> <br />The raven' <br />Mystical bird of days of yore, <br />Glides over me to find a resting place on the cliff <br />Just beyond the rugged shore. <br />The silence only broken by their occasional deep croak <br />A voice far deeper than of any crow that I have heard before. <br /> <br />Like some dark spirit <br />Free from the confines of the historical tower, <br />Their dark shadows only eclipsed <br />By the black clouds of a passing shower. <br /> <br />I stand and watch in fascination <br />Of their arial acrobatics high above, <br />Their dark shadows cross and re cross <br />As if dancing in mutual love. <br /> <br />The stately raven <br />A bird of legend and steeped in folklore, <br />Casts a shadow over the grey winter cliffs <br />A place where the raven reigns supreme and free forever more.<br /><br />GORDON BUTCHERS<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ravens-of-ecclesbourne/
