His words and letters, poems and prose,
Growing and flowering from a fleeting rose
Create a portrait of a withering Poe
His eternal love, lost, an ephemeral shadow.
Edgarís poems, so beautiful yet gloomy,
Their message, internally demanding a sigh
Yearning for a wish, this dreamer of dreams
But not a common one or so it would seem.
As I read Annabel Lee I am moved through time
Into another place, a magical world of Rhyme
To a spot I never thought words could convey
But surely proven because Iíve seen it displayed.
Welcome into this realm where there is no day or night,
Into a dream land of superimposed darkness and light.
Yes! Into a synergy of here and there, now and then,
Evolving like religious ecstasy, primordial to Zen.