Shivering and Shuddering
I shivered in my boots to hear the heartbeat ‘neath the floor
And listened to the raven when he quoted “Nevermore.”
I held my breath in horror at poor Fortunato’s end,
Being bricked up in a wall by his vengeful jealous friend.
I wept sad tears for Annabel in her crypt there by the sea
And wondered at the sorrow of love destined not to be.
I shuddered with disgust at one with such a wretched life,
He would hang his fat black cat, and would axe his loving wife.
I quaked with fear at seeing in the mad barbaric revel
How Red Death was unmasked to be a dark decaying devil.
All this I did while reading from that famous author Poe,
Whose morbid fancies oft' led him to places I’d not go.
Indeed, Poe was a writer of such creativity
He wrote of sin and sadness with supreme ability.
If I had Poe’s great talent, I would write so folks could read
How God’s grace is sufficient to meet every person’s need.
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