My Laura’s Raven
Midnight is a time pondered by so many,
who fear the unknown and get such delight?
with fright, over myths that lurk and hide
out in the woods at night.
My chamber door opened wide and
in you flew, not afraid to catch me napping,
a total stranger you were tapping to come in
who took flight from the darkened woods,
to shine your host upon my bed post not
lost just here to rest awhile.
The fire was dying and the embers
were so tired of glowing softly as
you perched above me, pondering
with sorrow for tomorrows light to
So come my feathered friend
and sip the nectar that I pour for
you and me, to see what becomes
of this adventure from this night
you chose to fly, and watch me
with your black eyes.
My Laura has not returned and
my sorrow is great for her fate,
was hung with her that awful night
the barn door swung open and
revealed her broken body
I have so many fears, as I watch
the red silken curtain by the
bedside move so silently and
terror strikes my heart this lonely
late night, but you my friend
have come to soften my fears
with pecking order and caws
to me so dear.
With surprise I let you enter
through my window, knowing
that the tapping of your beak
would not disturb my thoughts,
or loneliness yet in truth I felt
you my Laura under guise as
the Raven who would call so
late this night, while I was
napping through it all.
I often stay up late deep in
Thought, while peering into the
unknown darkness all around
my soul, while stillness quiets
fears, and whispers of her voice
keep haunting and taunting me,
so endearing to my soul is she.
Wondering I stood there fearing
but not doubting the dreams I have,
while the silence is often broken
by her sweet memory that echoes
in my mind, the night she showed
herself so many years ago, on a
back road so far travelled.
You my faithful Raven hovered
overhead above my bed, and
though I did not fear the grim of
your fluttering wing I knew you
had travelled far from your nest
to find me lost in thought but
not in my grave just yet.
Like a statue you sit and adorn
but with your watchful eye, you
never scorn me, looking back in
wonder why you appear before
me at this late hour in my fortress,
hidden behind my chamber door.
So Raven, share with me your
discourse and lonely plight and
why you choose to take this course
darkest of nights, your feathers
are trimmed and not a flutter doth
I took my robe and covered
Myself, revealing my shivers
trembling from the noise that
hung outside, and wanted to
come in to be a friend, I thought
Tempted though I was to share
with you the lore of myths, and
angels who call at me to enter
their domain, but faint I am, and
sickly do I feel for you my Raven,
I will forever be your friend.
My loneliness is cursing me, yet
with you here I fear nothing, for
your presence has awakened
me and the wick grows short,
while shadows begin to be no
more, my soul is floating over
my concrete floor wanting to
escape, but stay forevermore
with me the woman I adore in
name shall she be called Laura
© Copyright by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved
He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published.In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.