There's a Crow on the Barrow

There's a crow on the barrow

saddest of figures in grey.

Guardian of the royal grave

ancient times say.

There's a moon from upon the hill

clad in a silvery light.

Dweller of a forgotten tomb,

dormant heathen might.Croaking at the Autumn sky.

An accolade in the wind

carried to the ones up high.There's a crow on the barrow

silently spying into the dark.

There's a crow on the barrow

secretly scowling into the black Autumn night.There's a present calmness so dense,

a bower of eternal peace.

Vague shadows in reverence

like breezes through the trees.

Echoes of the ceremony,

flashes of silver and gold.

Offerings of beast and slaves

while odes and legends told.