It is always fun this time of year to pull out Edgar Allan Poe's poems. The Raven, in particular. This small, hard bound book is a treasure of mine that was printed way back in 1863. I love the smell and feel of old books and they carry me away to the places the author wants to take me...
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”
“And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more.”
"Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
As I continue reading, I start to feel the relaxing effects of the whiskey and the dim lights of the candles, causing me to close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep...
~ to be continued
Frank Denardo
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