Annabel Lee - a poem by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The beach
We spent the weekend with one of our sons and his lovely wife and 3 darling daughters at the beach at North Myrtle Beach. We had a great time as the water was like bath water and the waves calm.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
A bed and breakfast
On our recent trip we saw this pretty Bed and Breakfast in a small town called Bloomfield, Kentucky. It looks like a nice place to spend the night!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Grandpa's Front Porch
To this day I remember sitting on the porch with my grandpa Henson; He was a wonderful man with a bald head head ringed with white hair, blue eyes, loving hands and shiny black shoes.
It wasn't a large porch, a concrete one with 4 porch posts and concrete steps.
A porch swing hung on the porch, where I used to swing and pretend to be riding in a spaceship that flew to the moon;
Sitting in that swing I had asked my grandma such important questions as "why are you so hungry when you wake up in the morning?" And she answered me, patiently.
When we visited my grandparents we would always sit on that porch during the day and it was a cool place to sit and catch the breeze. In the evening, when a million stars came out and darkness fell heavily around their country home, it was peaceful and quiet. We would sit and watch the lightening bugs rise from the yard and hear the night birds call to their mate.
Then someone would ask my grandpa "Tell us about the time..." and he would. First he would tamp down the tobacco in his pipe and light it with a wooden match. The sweet smell of pipe tobacco would reach us as we sat in our various places on the porch. Then my grandpa would start to speak and tell us stories of when he was a child in the early 1900s. He would tell ghost stories and stories of panthers and walking the railroad line and ghost lights.
As I sat on the stairs of the porch, suddenly the peaceful darkness became full of shadows. Panthers hid behind the Rose of Sharon bushes that minutes ago were just bushes. Ghost lights bobbed over the yard that minutes ago were full of lightening bugs. Couldn't anyone else see how we were all now in danger?? Didn't anyone else see the ....
Suddenly, the back door opened and Grandpa walked into the house to get a second cup of coffee. The light from the door chased the ghosts and panthers far away and I feeling foolish went inside for some ice cream.
Until next time Grandpa told his stories, everything on the porch was peaceful again.
It wasn't a large porch, a concrete one with 4 porch posts and concrete steps.
A porch swing hung on the porch, where I used to swing and pretend to be riding in a spaceship that flew to the moon;
Sitting in that swing I had asked my grandma such important questions as "why are you so hungry when you wake up in the morning?" And she answered me, patiently.
When we visited my grandparents we would always sit on that porch during the day and it was a cool place to sit and catch the breeze. In the evening, when a million stars came out and darkness fell heavily around their country home, it was peaceful and quiet. We would sit and watch the lightening bugs rise from the yard and hear the night birds call to their mate.
Then someone would ask my grandpa "Tell us about the time..." and he would. First he would tamp down the tobacco in his pipe and light it with a wooden match. The sweet smell of pipe tobacco would reach us as we sat in our various places on the porch. Then my grandpa would start to speak and tell us stories of when he was a child in the early 1900s. He would tell ghost stories and stories of panthers and walking the railroad line and ghost lights.
As I sat on the stairs of the porch, suddenly the peaceful darkness became full of shadows. Panthers hid behind the Rose of Sharon bushes that minutes ago were just bushes. Ghost lights bobbed over the yard that minutes ago were full of lightening bugs. Couldn't anyone else see how we were all now in danger?? Didn't anyone else see the ....
Suddenly, the back door opened and Grandpa walked into the house to get a second cup of coffee. The light from the door chased the ghosts and panthers far away and I feeling foolish went inside for some ice cream.
Until next time Grandpa told his stories, everything on the porch was peaceful again.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
"I used to visit and revisit it a dozen times a day, and stand in deep contemplation over my vegetable progeny with a love that nobody could share or conceive of who had never taken part in the process of creation. It was one of the most bewitching sights in the world to observe a hill of beans thrusting aside the soil, or a rose of early peas just peeping forth sufficiently to trace a line of delicate green.- Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mosses from an Old Manse
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