This by Edgar Allan Poe
Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—a most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say—
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings—
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things!
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
remember this is not mine! this poem belongs to Edgar Allan Poe! until next time!
YOU ARE READING
Feelings
PoetryPoetry and other shit that I have written. If a name is given the it was written by someone else (not me). Enjoy. Dont take offense to my writing. Profanity may be included. Depressing and dark thing may follow as well... Read at your own risk. If y...