Where the Ravens Fly (Tautogram Poem)
Ravens swooned over the low crescent moon
radiant heavens, bright stars importune
rising in greeting dawn's effulgent rays
regaling with every wing beat’s blaze
Raucous in flight at first light's sultriness
rhetorical squawks punctuate the air
resounding “crou, crou”s signal that they're there
rhapsodic freedom bursting to excess
Reflections shimmer in a mirrored lake
revealed as the lofty heights merrymake
Rejoice! in the serenity at hand
revel in the majesty of this pristine land
7/3/2025
Ta ! (short for tarradiddle),
tailor