Thursday, June 13, 2013

Summer Sonnet 23: Four Ravens

I woke with an awful premonition
as the tropical rains began to pour.
Haunting my sleep, ghostly apparition
Prophetic ravens came forth in four.

Turning in bed, first raven's fruition
whispered soft sensual unguent.
The second warned physical detrition
flapping silver clouds of corpulent scent.

Final two ravens sat on each shoulder
sung scatological superstitions
forewarning of time geting older
and laughed at ethereal volition.

Laid awake in a coat of darkness
on my lips, prophetic black birds do kiss.

- By Aurin Squire

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