Edgar Allan Poe (19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

This poem made the hairs on my arms stand up and I felt like electricity traveled up my back... Then again, I think I made friends with a ghost... It may have been that.

I found the poem because of my fascination with the character Eulalie in Alfred Silver's novel 'Three Hills Home' which she is equally or even more beautiful than Poe's Eulalie. The novel is fictional, but historically correct about the deportation of the Acadians in 1755 A definite must read!

rhythm, rhythm, rhythm!
i bow to your enormous rhythm! ! !