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    The End of the Raven

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    Join date : 2011-07-22

    The End of the Raven

    Post by Lotus on Wed Dec 07, 2011 5:06 am

    The End of the Raven
    by Edgar Allan Poe's Cat
    from POETRY FOR CATS
    by Henry Beard

    On a night quite unenchanting, when the rain was downward slanting,
    I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.
    Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven,
    Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.

    "Raven's very tasty," thought I, as I tiptoed o'er the floor,
    "There is nothing I like more."

    Soft upon the rug I treaded, calm and careful as I headed
    Toward his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.
    While the bard and birdie chattered, I made sure that nothing clattered, or snapped, or fell, or shattered, as I crossed the corridor;
    For his house is crammed with trinkets, curios and weird decor--

    Bric-a-brac and junk galore.
    Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stock-still as he uttered,
    In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents' worth--

    "Nevermore."

    While this dirge the birdbrain kept up, oh, so silently I crept up,
    Then I crouched and quickly leapt up, pouncing on the feathered bore.
    Soon he was a heap of plumage, and a little blood and gore--
    Only this and not much more.

    "Oooo!" my pickled poet cried out, "Pussycat, it's time I dried out!
    Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before;
    How I've wallowed in self-pity, while my gallant, valiant kitty
    Put an end to that damned ditty"--then I heard him start to snore,
    Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I abhor,

    Jumped--and smashed it on the floor.

      Current date/time is Mon Mar 18, 2019 3:26 pm