POEMS, SPIRITUAL QUOTES AND SAYINGS
SUBMITTED FOR PUBLICATION ON CARERS- HEALINGSPUR
The End of The Raven
By Edgar Alan Poe's Cat
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,
" ravens very tasty, " thought I, as I tip toed o'er the floor.
" There's 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,
Creaked or snapped, or fell, or shattered as I crossed the corridor,
For his house is crammed with trinkets, curios, and wierd 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 bird brain kept up, oh so silently I crept up,
Then I crouched and quickly lept 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,
" Pussy cat 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 damn ditty"- then I heard him start to snore,
Back atop the door I clambered eyed the statue I abhor,
Jumped - and smashed it to the floor.
This poem was copyrighted by Henry Beard 1994 and appears in his book " Poetry for cats " published by Villard books ( part of Random House)
