White Crow

So I have been writing short stories and poems for years now, and while I will probably put a few on here for you to read, I won’t be blogging my stories. For one, I like to write in the Vampire/fantasy genre, and even though I started writing them before all the vampire hype, there are WAY too many vampire books out there now. While I like my stories, I couldn’t bare someone to see my work and groan “not another vampire book!”  We are all human.

So my poetry on the other hand I don’t mind scrutiny, comments, whatever. Most of them I wrote inspired by something happening in my life at the time, and others are just random bits that came to me in the middle of the night, on the train, etc.

So which one to start off with? It’s a hard decision, as I am terribly critical about my stuff, even though people who have read it said it’s good. Anyway it doesn’t really matter.  I’ll pick one of my favorites to begin with. As you can see I wrote it a few years back. 

White Crow

The White Crow sits on the throne of his queen

He sees for her what cannot be seen

Their bond is one of unfathomable depth

Which can only be broken with either ones death

A cursed cloth of black on her eyes she is bound

So he speaks in her mind in a way profound

He will tell her the difference between truth and lies

And as his Queen sleeps the White Crow flies

White Crow flies and surveys his Queens lands

From the mountain tops to the golden sands

From the land in the south through the sleet and snow

To the land in the north where the summer blooms grow

He will fly through the day until the night fall

And through his eyes his Queen can see all

He has no wish for his life to end

He would fly on forever for his beautiful friend

But time as they say, it does go on

White crow and his beloved are now long gone

Though to this day when wind lashes the skies

You will faintly hear the White Crows cries

11/7/07

 ©Copyright SWestlake 2007