O, but for her eyes
Bright as the celestial skies.
And ah! The skin of her fair face
As soft to the touch like the finest lace.
But O! Wo! Her triumphant spirit is gone.
All I have of her now lies beneath the lawn,
Except for those effects of hers I wish to hold,
The eyes, skin, the very face of my once betrothed!
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
I wrote this poem in 2002 while a literature major taking a seminar on Edgar Alan Poe. The assignment was to write a poem imitating his style. My approach was a bit tongue-in-cheek, you could say. I hope you enjoy this parody piece!
Kara Jackman is an Archivist at Boston University by day and a freelance writer by night. Her work has appeared in a number of regional, Massachusetts newspapers, non-profit newsletters, and local sports magazines. Her interests are many and varied thanks to her parents' commitment to artistic immersion. Her four years spent at the College of the Holy Cross did not hurt either. She blogs about music, fitness and self-improvement. Kara resides in a suburb just outside the city of Boston.