Sometimes it is a Raven...and sometimes it is ....

I don't know why it is...but I recite poems to myself. I have done so for years...actually since childhood. I think it is because...unlike prose...you have permission to create a vision...which can be interpreted. One of the reasons I like Poe...not just for the Raven...but this lesser known poem.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me -
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we -
Of many far wiser than we -
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling -my darling -my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea -
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

There will be speculation about who inspired this...perhaps his wife Virginia, that is possible...or perhaps it was meant for us...to discover for ourselves. I recite this poem to myself when I am feeling ill. Today I have a bit of a flu bug...and so...I remembered a love...and angels who envied it...

Edgar Allen Poe...and his enigmatic poem...and me with a cold...how perfect.



A wind blew out of a cloud....maybe that is why I recite this when I am feeling chilled...I am soooo...well I think you get the picture.