Tribute to Poe

Walking solemnly through forest thick and mangled, a beauty of dark green eyes behind dark hair entangled
A youth with skin of pale complection, Only warmed by the moons reflection
Curious of her lunar friend, followed towards its hopeful end.
As it peaked from behind gray clouds, on this eternal midnight of wolven howls
She did upon an open section, A section which in all sights direction,
Did expand into a patch of pumpkins.

Winter crookneck far and wide, from each corner side to side
And through this patch the maiden wandered, how far the moon she did ponder
'Til she came weak and weary, Stopping before a figure dreary
A scarecrow with patchwork dress and stitched top hat, under which she relieved and sat,
All a while wondering at the creatures bleak projection, gathered her breath and asked a question
"Scarecrow, why do you look so sad?"

Silence was its reply, leaving her to sit and sigh
"Do all these melons here about object, and deny you your respect,
Of which are owed through watchful eyes, repressing birds of their demise?"
Silence was its reply, erecting herself she did come nigh,
Inspecting closer this figures frame, the beauty asked "what's your name?"
"Sentinel of this garden you do seem, of that I title you and properly deem!"
"Named you are as I did so, but mine of which you do not know,
And so to you I will report, was given the name of Lost Lenore."

At which the figure gave reply, leaving guest half petrified.
"A name to which my mind shall store, the lovely name of Lost Lenore."
The words he again to himself muttered, after which he did sputter,
"Though sentinel a proper name may seem, respectfully I am the Pumpkin King,
To what pleasure do you entreat herein, myself and all my pumpkin kin?"

Curiosity took in her terrors place, and about him circles she did trace,
Looking about with her dark green eyes, both taking him in to scrutinize,
How odd to see a talking scarecrow, What magic this was she did not know,
Her purpose she did confess, "I was looking for surcease of loneliness,
In this world I was brought on in, having seen only this night,
All alone I coldly stood, in the middle of this entangling wood.

Not long the moon began to whisper "Lenore!", and so my feet were called on towards,
Through the woods forever calling, calling my name "Lost Lenore!",
Until upon your lonely figure, I did sit to restore my vigor.
And once upon you the moon was silent, and since then it called my name no more."
At this she ended, with question originally intended,
"Scarecrow, why do you look so sad?"

"My fair maiden, for though with pumpkins this place is fully laden,
Of no one else have I to share my time, and of company my heart does truly pine!
But here you are so fair and dark, a feminine reflection of this place you walk."
At this he began to unhitch himself, and sat before the girl,
"Please sit down and have a spell, a nice discourse will do us well,
Beauty will you stay awhile, talk to me and make me smile?"

And so they sat, both quite enrapt,
Talking to one another,
Talking for the longest time, talking beneath the moons lunar shine,
'Til the girl did announce that she did love him, and reached out to gently touch him,
But at this he could not ignore, for if they touch her heart would beat no more,
The scarecrow was a cursed thing, and this would lead to her demise,
So with gloved hand her touch he stopped, explaining that which he wanted he must deny,
But before he could give the full report, her lonely heart leapt forward consumed by her amour,
Kissing him upon the lips, with meeting hands and fingertips,
To which this wondrous gain, did extinguish her eternal flame,
'Til she fell upon his breast, beating heart coming to its rest,
Lastly did the Lost Lenore, of the pumpkin king implore,
"Scarecrow, why do you look so sad?"