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Saturday, August 8, 2020

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe has always been one of my favorite writers.  You never knew what to expect next from his pen.  Macabre and alive, his writing just gets down into your gut and you can never forget it.  He's been an inspiration for my writing and I wrote this sonnet, just as he liked that form, in a similar vein to his love poetry.  Please enjoy it - after all, it's only 14 lines!


How peacefully my lover sleeps,
her soft grey eyes, covered up tight,
shuttering out the deep, dark night,
and all the horror that time reaps.
Her lips, parched, begging for a kiss,
whisper to me, as I bend near,
to hear the things I want to hear.
Lengthy, dark hair, disarrayed bliss,
frames a face that cannot be sad.
Soft features outline, beauty shines,
coming from an angelic head.
Slender fingers whose purpose had
only to please, now show the lines
of lifelessness – my lover’s dead.

Written in 1987.


This is an old sonnet I wrote.  Please enjoy it!


While stooping low, to rescue some ants,
the moon fell out of my pocket.
A selfish girl put it in a locket
so as to hide it from lovers’ wants.
The locket was shaped like a heart
but the metal was only gold-tone.
(Had it been silver, it would have shown.)
While dipping ice cream, the chain came apart
and she lost my precious little moon.
It rolled under the door and got away.
A band of pygmies, camped in her yard,
one day left altogether too soon.
I began to suspect something that day,
when I couldn’t find it, though I looked hard.

Written in 1987.


Here's an old poem I wrote.  I hope you enjoy it!

The Mayor's Daughter

The Mayor’s daughter was an owl,
    she whoo’d from dusk till dawn;
her eyes were bright, like shining moons,
    tho’ mice and men were gone.

She flew away before the sun,
    and left us in a hurry;
the Mayor cries for his daughter,
    but me, I do not worry.

Written in 1987.