Ode to Poe’s Love

Within a moment, can solemn worry –
from a care-free life loving lore,
foresee the grieving wretch of me,
with the great loss of dear Elinore.

If madness pervades my thought,
that should she bejewel my soul –
then let this madness be brought –
accepting it over ten-fold.

As never a beauty should rise –
above my solemn sun crest.
within the mist of her eyes –
finds my soul’s lone happiness.

Elinore, my ardent love be true,
and I shall voice it to the clouds…
less your lips now cold and blue
should come forth from buried ground.

Dear, allow this waft of roses,
brought to thee by the dozen –
sooth thee through those heav’nly dozes –
My dearest, most sweetest cousin….

And ever need you may call my name,
through the lonely whippoorwill,
or if you insist, all the same –
a black raven above my sill.
© 2015 John Allen Richter

About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

2 responses to “Ode to Poe’s Love

  • Oloriel

    A wonderful and emotional write, a lovely tribute. I especially liked the mix of emotions in this part:”Elinore, my ardent love be true,
    and I shall voice it to the clouds…
    less your lips now cold and blue
    should come forth from buried ground.”, the, what it looked to me like, thin line between delirious hope and harsh and cold reality.

    • johnallenrichter

      Thank you for your kind words and astute observation! Many think of Poe as only some great, mystical master of macabre who gracefully walked powerfully through the world telling his tales of after-life possibilities! With several generations removed it is so easy to paint a personality that way. Conversely, I have always viewed Poe as a very sensitive, withdrawn sort of man, who did not feel exceptionally comfortable in crowds or with strangers. Having married his closest friend, and teen cousin Virginia, I’ve always assessed that he was most comfortable with those in his dearest inner circle. When Virginia died a decade or so later I think it left Poe in a desperate longing state – and I think missing her eventually drove him to his own mysterious death. His later attempts to find female companions were awkward, I think because he knew inwardly felt that no one could ever understand him, or love him, as sweet Virginia did. When I saw your comment about delirious hope and cold reality – I realized then that you “got” what the poem means to me. That itself is quite a rarity as I am used to being quite far from understood myself. Thank you for that! btw – I used the name ‘Elinore’ out of respect for Mr. Poe, who used variations of that name in some of his poems about after-life meetings. You might recognize ‘Eleonora’ or ‘Lenore.’ I think you might enjoy this too….. https://johnallenrichter.wordpress.com/2013/05/29/the-ravens-call-jr/

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