A Poet's Legacy
The first I read of poetry it gave me such a fright
The first I read was Poe you see, words of a widower's plight
A rapping at my chamber door, a churchbell in the night;
and I find the bood-flow through my veins freeze, and turn to ice
For a spirit's whisper, a raven's "nevermore", a word that can entice
I find the fear it brings me, is hardly a high price
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: