Edgar Allan's Ghost (Poetry Audio/Text)
Article voiceover
Winter nights of the heart,
frozen fissures in my soul.
Sitting, damp beside the fire,
mate kindling my bed-
shadows enter, flickering.
There are corners of myself
impenetrable,
never shared, nor bared…
my heart-
a brittle cocoon shell,
my words-
black snowflakes melting.
The snake oil cures that money buy
are not so gypsy-wise-
no potion stills the aging,
no charm can soothe regret.
My dreams are filled
with dark and sallow ghosts,
Edgar Allan haunts my hearth…
Baltimore bells toll for us both.
deep thoughts expressed but does it sooth the soul?
Well must say that had its desired effect if the effect was to give me a shiver in May.
One of my earliest frights from reading came from Edgar Allen Poe - and continued through highschool. (The oral stories that had me terrified came courtesy of my great-Aunt).
I’m going to keep this and let the young ones shiver a little….