The Stormcrow's Shack Poem by Kyrgiakos Punnilathil

Jumping over puddle and pool,
merrier than the merriest fool,
hopping, skipping, singing songs,
too young to know the right from wrongs.

Skipping along, past bush and tree,
not a care, in the world, had he,
when he came nigh the Stormcrow's shack,
behind him, the clouds grew black.

Thunder called him from the sky,
jolting him from dreams of pie,
the scent of wet earth filled the air,
then the first drop wet his hair.

Without time to think or plan,
towards the empty shack he ran,
a shiver went deep down his bone,
when he realized, he was alone.

He'd often heard of Stormcrow's shack,
those that went there never came back,
for there the lidless crow's eyes shone,
and those that saw them turned to stone.

In the heavens great thunder rumbled,
and over the threshold he almost stumbled.
Alone, cold and miserable he felt,
as he watched around him the raindrops pelt.

The shack was empty, so it seemed,
but he was wary of eyes that gleamed,
but all seemed still and he grew less scared,
to explore the shack his heart now dared.

Carefully, he went from room to room,
eyes kept down, to avoid the gaze of doom,
until at last the last room was searched,
and nowhere had he found old Stormcrow perched.

He wondered now if tales were true,
or just invented, to scare you.
Suddenly his face felt warm
and he watched outside, the sky transform.

The sun gleamed on a wet earth,
the birds flew in the warmth and sang with mirth.
He ran outside the Stormcrow's shack,
and didn't care to ever look back.