October and Poe

 October cannot escape me, without a mention of Poe. Edgar Allen Poe, the poet and writer, tapping at my door. I look forward to reading about him, and his work each crisp autumn night. This year I was so trilled to also have a novel, The Raven's Bride to dig into. I devoured it, each delicious word learning more about my Mr. Poe.
You see he married his cousin, who was thirteen at the time, Eddy(some called him) was twenty-six. Mr. P was a driven man, eccentric and earthly poor, they say a poets dream? He had a lonely early life, that of course, haunted him. The young lad was very romantic, he loved deeply, yet with an odd twist. His raven bride, slept with her mother until she was sixteen, and Edgar in an adjoining room. Not your everyday husband and wife start to life. I guess it worked for them, Poe was to say, "We loved with a love that was more than love." ?? Illness filled up their days. He drank himself crazy, and she had tuberculosis, coughing up blood more than most! A quote from Poe reads, "I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity!" Yet we still read his master work, he had the gift. The Raven is one of my favorite, it has a rhythm that sings.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary....its calls you to continue. The poem is lengthy and requires thought, which I consider wonderful. Tales of mystery and macabre. The Murders at the Rue Morgue, The Tell-Tale Heart, The Fall of the House of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum, so many more.
Crisp autumn air, a chill seeping in, dark comes earlier and Poe returns.
He died in 1849, some say syphilis, cholera, rabies, heart disease, all mixed in with years of the juice. Lonely and sick, or a madman.

His words haunt us still, tis the wind and nothing more.