I penned this poem after seeing a large group (murder) of crows in the trees around an ancient church in a small hamlet in West Sussex, England. My imagination ran wild, and I got goose bumps, witch (sic) gave me the idea for the Sauin (Halloween) theme. I hope you enjoy reading it and voicing the poem in a suitable tone and style for maximum effect!

 

The Crows of Sauin

Crows gather,

sinister, inscrutable,

like living silhouettes

stitched to the bones of post autumnal trees.

 

The dusk of this all hallows eve painted grey,

The lack of any breeze is unnerving

A dampness that tastes of something bad, unnatural.

 

Fear combined with fascination. Expectation tightens its grip.

Is this murder of crows a wonder of nature?

Or a black feathered prophecy,

A vision of murder yet to happen.

 

Then, an explosion of beating wings, the air convulses,

Broken by the caws and awks of

Tuneless cries,

By the ragged rasp of uncanny sounds

Not meant for mortal ears.

 

And then, silence.

A deathly stillness.

Shapes and shadows glide

Through skeletal like branches,

Like ghouls and spirits in a frenzy of gore.

 

Night descends.

I retreat to my home and hearth,

To the comfort of a dram of single malt,

But in the dark corners of my mind,

The crows endure,

Awesome, dreadful,

Harbinger of something yet unseen.

 

Birds in glossy black plumage,

Or fearful messengers of unnatural deeds.

Who knows! Especially on this night of nights.