Edgar Allan Poe’s poetry rings with genius – I love the musical sound of it. In order for me to like poetry, it has to have rhyme and meter – I don’t tend to go for the stuff that isn’t very structured. I love the challenge of saying what you want to say in a certain amount of syllables AND having to make it rhyme. I call it creativity with limitations, and I love seeing the way some poets have mastered sculpting the language and conforming it perfectly to what they want to communicate. In my very limited knowledge, I considered Edgar Allan Poe to be one of the masters at that. I also love starry night skies. 🙂 So here is this week’s poem:
‘Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro’ the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
‘Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass’d, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.
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