A twist on A Valentine by Edgar Allan Poe
For him this couplet is fervently written, whose dark prose,
That tickles the mind and opens shadowy doors,
And that utterly and completely enthralls me so
To create a riddle, a puzzle that will be all yours.
Seek carefully! For the riddle has not begun, soon you shall discover,
A few more lines that I shall permit, oh, he is brilliant,
His name is hidden in the poem, wait patiently to uncover—
Excellent! Look, the puzzle begins this instant!
Adding one letter to the next, have you solved it yet?
To give you a hint—that would be preposterous!
Sit and think, consider with care, do not squirm and fret,
Abhor me now, do you? I am not that monstrous—
He, a sea of grotesque darkness, intriguing, inspiring,
Always listening to me, quietly,
And with lasting impressions, his work never tiring,
His name latching into the folds of my mind, reliably,
He, Valentine, I call him secretly, and whisper his name
Tenderly, as poets tend to,
He fashions poetry; my one love is its to claim,
Without him, the word would fall apart—a ghastly blue.
(The riddle ends above, dear reader, so cease your attempt
If you have not solved it thus far,
Do not worry, do not bear contempt,
His name will be mine to keep, and we shall be as we are.)
