A Thousand Ravens
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This poem is dedicated to Edgar Allan Poe. ~
A twilight's passing thought of your mysterious powers,
in my lonely watch hours,
as a thousand Ravens in whispered flight,
their ebony eyes reflected in the moonlight.
Your poetry, your solemn soul, my legendary prince,
Westminster's ancient gates cannot contain-
you captivated me ever since,
my youth with a maiden heart,
your verses of love I do impart,
I'm advanced in my years,
and have rained my share of tears.
Oh, if only I could have known you,
gazing into a photograph of your
treasured eyes of an eclipse to which I cannot say "Adieu."
Your spirit storming my psyche in its glories,
as I read your timeless Gothic stories.
I feel October's creeping bones of chill,
your tragic lover's life, Edgar, then your pen
went still..
Descending,
slowly descending-
from the heady spell of
a midnight's reading,
the bats' nocturnal hunt proceeding.
My hearth is embers fading to
sleep's calling,
but my devotion never falling.
I hear the awakened luminous-eyed owl's hoot,
my joy for your gift of words resolute,
as a thousand Ravens encircle the
morose moon,
and I dream of you midst the gloom. ~
Copyright © Regina Elliott | Year Posted 2024
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