‘Twas many moons ago in fled days of yore,
In a distant realm of a golden shore,
When there dwelt a maiden of golden hair,
The last fairest by the name of Lenore.

The sweetness of her mellifluous voice,
Like only Angels of high heaven can make;
The beaminess of her impeccable face,
Reflections of a dawn sun-kissed lake.

Once by a golden noontide, so they say,
Perfectly salubrious was the day,
Fairly enriched by heaven's fairest ray
That Lenore chose to potter by the bay.

She marveled at so wide a limpid sea,
That was a vast luminous blue millpond,
Whispering mellifluous lullabies
Like of Angels upon heaven's compound.

“O sea, thou art lovely like a sweet dream,”
Quoth Lenore, “In thy waters I must swim.”
Hence as quick as a plummeting sunbeam,
In waters jumped the little seraphim.

Frosted in sheer elation she galloped
Upon the crest of so gentle a wave,
But every sea creature lifted its head,
Whilst doleful as marigold by a grave,

And in faint whispers didst bid her adieu,
"Farewell Lenore," till she was out of view,
Away where mortals of yore never knew,
Away where none canst ever have a clue.

In a while, the sun had shone her last ray
And solitary stars were beaming bright
Upon heaven's timelessly stonking bay,
But she still alone In the dead of night.

By luck, on yonder was a galleon
Of a sundeck decked with bright neon,
Her glossy sails as if from diamond hewn,
With words golden blazoned upon her stern:

Come thou little maiden, come thou aboard,
But little did innocent Lenore know,
At the back words in clear ruby-red read:
“To the kingdom of eternal sorrow.”

Not so long faded the night, dawn was nigh,
Heaven's molten gold began oozing by,
Whilst silvery clouds waltzed athwart the sky,
That Lenore's eyes slavered with ecstasy.

But then, there came a dog in the manger,
A hateful wave assailed the galleon
And heavens raged with roaring thunder
That echoed louder than the hungriest lion.

Tossing her where the sea kisses the skies,
Hence now but a speck on the horizons,
And there she galloped by and by downwards
Till wrecked upon shadowy blue islands

That bore words by the shores: “Little maiden,
Welcome thou to the kingdom of Nineva,
Where mortals shalt see thee never again,
For here you'll dwell forever and ever.”

This sent poor Lenore reeling far in mind
That with cinder-like eyes stumbled behind
But her galleon she could hardly find
For it had long vanished into the wind.

But hark! Yonder woods sprang a companion,
A lad whose names were Edgar Alan Poe;
Bestrode upon a snowy fair stallion
Who unto her whispered softly and low:

“If the moon be fair, then thy skin fairer,
If the stars be bright, then thine eyes brighter,
If snow be white, then thy lip’s gems whiter,
If the sun be hot, then thy hair hotter,

Then tell me, what bringeth thou to Nineva,
A realm of eternal sorrow and fear,
Where no mortal hath escaped ever,
But ever doomed in dungeons of despair?”

Despite her visage was lugubrious,
Her worries were all now but fugacious,
That yonder fair floral woods susurrous
Galloped whilst trees sang in tunes mellifluous.

For Edgar’s words of kindness had soothed her
Now doth she beam with ethereal luster
Like of night lanterns upon heavens shore
Scintillating in a wondrous cluster.

Alas! strange and covetous myriad eyes
By yon brier coveted the beauty queen
That as passes a fiend in the night skies
Did spy upon her with eyes all unseen

'Tis then when Edgar was away hunting
Whilst the beauty queen was all alone singing
When those dreamy figures came whispering
Amongst each other whilst wildly smiling.

Bestrode upon many a snowy fair horse,
Their strange faces, as pale as death her self.
Their voices, as if thousand snakes didst hiss,
Betwixt them, there lordly sprang an elf

Who unto her said, "how sweet thou dost sing,
Thy melodious voice would so please our king,
Unto thee, rubies and pearls shalt he bring,
Of banished gold shalt be thy nuptial ring."

"Nay", softly replied the little maiden,
To thy king I canst not walk down the isle,
For in violent love I'm with a swain,
Thy king's treasures outweigh not his smile.

"Wretch", why dost thou abhor our proposal?
For soon thou art to regret having done so,
So cried the elf, "opting for a mortal
Than a mighty king who is immortal"?

"Hark! Fair moon, see that morrow by noontide
Thou art by the edge of yon verdant moor,
For then thou shalt come with us yonder side
Neath the sea, and dwell with us evermore."

At this, a wild wind danced by many a leaf
And so vanished the strange troop of the elf
That she busted with a sigh of relief
Though deep within, her soul kindled with grief.

Not long, news sprinkled into the swain's ear
Who gathered a troop of a thousand men
Each bearing a bow, a hummer and spear,
All ready to guard the beauty queen.

When came morrow, they took little Lenore
And laid her beneath a lone sycamore
That stood by the edge of a lonely moor,
And then all matched towards the shingly shore.

No army led by any hostile king
Towards them could ever come any near.
There job was great that they did chant and sing
Songs of triumph of the fled days of yore.

Alas! To match towards the sycamore,
There pale and cold laid innocent Lenore
With not any single bone of poor her
Broken, but her breath taken evermore.

Mute, forlon, and motionless stood the swain
With bitter tears galloping from his eye,
With his soul 'neath a sepulchre of pain
That from yon day on, the realm he did curse.

For in Nineva, a realm dim and deep,
There not a mean ray of light canst now creep,
And there all creatures night and day dost weep
Till sweet Lenore wakes from eternal sleep.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 16th.July.2018.

#tale #adventure #fantasy #Lenore #EdgarAlanPoe #Nineva

In days dead and burried in time,
In a very far away enchanted clime,
In the mighty kingdom of Nineva
Where there fairly shone forever,

There once was a strange lonely wood
That ever in fairest robes of green stood
By the edge of a fair shoreline of pearl,
Whose mystery none may tell nor unfurl.

For akin to the most effulgent yonder star
That forevermore scintillates from afar
In a splendiferous novelty golden cluster,
So thrice scintillated the gem's luster.

And 'tis for this that as we all truly know,
All mortals, I say, all mortals  of long ago
Gravitated from corners of distant lands
On the quest for riches by those strands.

Once, sweltering was the noontide
When upon a violent lonely rolling tide
A bunch of desperate pirates were seen
Nearing that wood of emerald sheen.

In a while, they'd gathered all they could,
Leaving not a single gem in the wood.
Alas! A wind murmured upon the skies
In faint whispers: "Woods have eyes"

So muttered all birds - all birds of the air,
All creatures in caverns desolate yet fair,
All leaves upon strange shadowy trees,
And all - all creatures of wild lonely seas.

But, despite the looming dark omen,
Swifter than plummeting drops of rain,
So hastily dashed every single pirate
Blindingly minding not about their fate.

They raised their silvery sails to take sail
But hark! All this - all this was to no avail;
For upon the skies no wind was seen
To render them across so wide a sea.

In a jiffy, louder than birds of the skies
All gems whispered, "Woods have eyes."
From that moment on, all lost their sight,
Doomed never to behold the sun's light.

And now, upon those murky restless seas
They dost weep but no plea can please,
For they were doomed to rove evermore
In search of their long forgotten shore.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros, Kampala, Uganda. 29th.July.2018.

In Nineva, in melted days of yore,
In a very distant verdant realm
Of a shadowy enchanted Moor,
There rolled a nectar stream.

And whoever ever drunk from it
Whilst the sun rained her golden light,
Craved nevermore to drink nor eat
But perpetually dwelt in delight.

Once, upon her banks strolled a couple
Majestically holding each other's hand.
Golden robbed with plush ribbons purple,
All the way from a very far away land

Where dwelleth many a mandrill,
A realm of many a precious stone
And many a verdant rolling hill,
Though creatures there all but forlorn.

King and queen of Merindrill they were,
On a golden quest for perpetual youth
Akin to the luster of many a fiery star
Whose mystery none knows the truth.

Though the stream galloped in gladness,
Though meadow larks chirped in ecstasy,
A roving wind eerily rustled in sadness
As it danced about aspen leaves all sassy.

All birds of evil omen graced the heaven
Whilst darkling clouds blotted heavens' bed
But unto none did it seem a bad omen.
Dyadic ravens perched upon their head.

"Quaff, quaff, oh quaff not from the river,"
Unto the king quoth the first raven.
"In that river deep thou shalt dwell forever,"
Unto the queen quoth the second raven.

"Quaff, quaff, oh quaff not," they didst spoof
At the ravens whilst as quick as drops of rain
Plummeting from earths' eternal dewy roof,
In such haste, they quaffed again, and again.

And 'tis for that reason that all men know
From the ***** of that sweet rollin' river
Did the fanciful couple now as cold as snow
Ever leave, but there dost live forever.



©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, California, USA.
06/Nov/2018.

Through Nineva's ever rollin' hills
Over meadows of verdant green
Well watered by eternal nectar rills
There we must away with eyes keen.

Yonder woods shadowy and wide,
Motionless since days began,
As swift as falls rain there we ride
And seek our stolen gold while we can.

Though mighty stars, moon and sun,
Upon heaven's ever stonking bay
Might all cease to shine and burn,
There we must away ere break of day.

Yonder vale, yonder hills, yonder briars,
Yonder chasms dim and deep we ride,
Past thorny thickets, through beast's liars,
There our chariots ride as swift as a tide,

With our swords sharp as the sun's rays
To seek our gold from enchanted hoards
Where creatures lament sweet olden days
Long before cloven with magical swords

By dwarf lords in eternal halls of stone
That upon 'em casted mighty spells
Sharper than sunbeams that ever shone,
There we must away ere our bell knells.

Through Nineva's ever rollin' hills
Past meadows of verdant green
Well watered by eternal nectar rills,
There we must away with eyes keen.

Yonder woods shadowy and wide,
Motionless since days began,
As swift as falls rain there we ride
And seek our stolen gold while we can.

Beneath many a galloping stream
That forevermore never find the sea,
For there things ain't what they seem
By day or by night unto the naked eye.

There we must ride past  mountains high
Twixt darkling woods cold and old,
As swift as a wind beneath the night sky
And seek our long stolen harps of gold

Despite there all woods have eyes
For the dwarf Lord upon his throne
That evemore beams than starry skies
There we ride and seek our golden crown

In a realm where fairly shone forever
In days long dead and burried in time,
But though sun, moon & stars shine never
There we must away from clime to clime

Through Nineva's ever rollin' hills
Past meadows of verdant green
Well watered by eternal nectar rills,
There we must away with eyes keen.

Yonder woods shadowy and wide,
Motionless since days began,
As swift as falls rain there we ride
And seek our stolen gold while we can.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angeles, U.SA. 07/30th/2019.

Far over the woods shadowy and old,
Beyond lofty mountains forlorn and cold
Where leaves by no wind stired sway,
There we must seek our enchanted gold.

Though dwarves in dungeons of shadow
Hanged them as dew drops by the bough
And casted spells sharp as the sun's ray,
We must seek our gold ere old we grow.

Through brier, yonder vale, yonder hill,
Yonder beyond many a whispering rill
Where songbirds lament the olden day,
There we must away ere time stands still.

Far over the woods shadowy and old,
Beyond lofty mountains forlorn and cold
Where leaves by no wind stired sway,
There we must seek our enchanted gold.

Through peculiar caverns dim and deep
Where strange lonely things dost creep
Forevermore as waves towards the bay,
There we must boldly ride ere we sleep;

In Nineva, to win our long-stolen gold
Beneath botomless vales forlorn and cold;
Where creatures lugubrious night & day,
Far over the woods shadowy and old.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angels, California, USA.
3rd. September.2018.

#Tales Of Nineva

"King he was to the realm of Nineva
In great halls that fairly shone forever.
Kaleidoscopic were hues of his blade,
Of burnished gold was it fairly made.
Diamonds, sapphires, pearls, and rubies
In fresh numbers were seen in his vase.
Ninety nine archers guarded the palace,
His horsemen swifter than comets of space,
Over wood, yonder hill, yonder vale, they'd race.

Eternally limpid yet ineffable was his lass's
Diamond-like eyes as dewdrops upon grass.
Winds of hate this beauty beheld and said nay
A beauty reflection as that in my wings must lay.
Roses, lavenders, lilacs, gardenias of the spring,
Daffodils of rolling hills unto her I'll bring.

A star-like diadem I'll press upon her gaily hair
Light buttons of pearl shalt bedight her dress so fair
Eternally mine shalt she be like as waves to sea or
Xylograph upon wood shalt be her soul to my soul.
And 'tis for this reason that all creatures know
Nineva's king since yon day turned cold as snow.
Diamond-like, so hardened his soul that now
Roves in a labyrinth of restless nostalgic winds
Outgribing here and there like wingless birds
Stuck in branches of night or shells neath the sands."


© Kikodinho Edward Alexandros,
Los Angels, California, USA.
15th/DEC/2018

Eons ago in many a vanished day,
There once stood a Hut by The Grey Hill
Twixt trees by no wind stirred didst sway.
Her floor of silvery shine like a sun-kissed rill—

Of all bird's feathers was her roof,
Her door of burnished gold hewn,
Of chalcedony her walls. Beneath her roof
A vase of all hues of a mulberry moon.

And In that Hut dwelt an aged aged man
Whose strange and novelty curly beard
Kissed the ground, and as white as a swan.
No string of hair beheld upon his head.

His fiery eyes were as steady as forever,
His voice akin to a roaring thunder's tapestry,
He who was the last of dwarves of Nineva,
That now wherever they dwell is but a mystery.

One perfectly glorious noontide, so they say;
He took to hidden paths of an enchanted moor,
And as a wind surreptitiously vanished away
To be beheld by mortals nevermore—nevermore.

So vanished that novelty Hut of The Grey Hill,
And now, peregrinators who peregrinate in that land
Hear mellifluous music like whispers of a rill,
And at eventide behold a vase in a colorful band

With no strings attached—but pendulous in air
Like as a motionless cloud hanging upon the sky
Whilst gazing about mountains in robes so fair,
So it hangs in opalescent hues unto any naked eye.

Alas! Though extramundane the vase—none canst remove,
For when thou dare gravitate, sweet music no more,
But discordant melodies like as a hateful wave
Beating against a galleon, & thou art spirited evermore.


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros.
Tacoma, Evergreen State, 03/02/21.