Edgar Allen Poe,
He did some sombre poems sow,
Was it the Raven, or the crow?
Nevermore, he spoke of light,
Or anything remotely bright,
In death he did delight,
A ready friend at hallows wean,
Got downright dirty, real mean,
Scare the hell out of many a teen,
With dirt of graves, he scratched,
The papers deep, of hope detached,
When sombre thoughts he hatched,
I wonder, how he is my friend,
Sinister he was, right to the end,
Sombre bells, toll for this gent.
"Scare the hell out of many a teen..." How true this is; reading his short stories at 15 was a chilling experience. Then, reading his works in later years, I've concluded him to be master of the macabré. His poetry...The Raven my very favorite; not far behind is Annabel Lee. The meter of both are...genius!
Blessings and Love and Appreciation! ~~ Micke
all the best
Tuchy
Sir Edgar walks inside many authors without they knowing it.
Georg