Once upon the month September, it was warm as I remember
I was travelling through the country which I hadn't done before
I was looking out the window of a train I had been in though
And was listening to some music, with my bags stacked on the floor
All the passengers were sleeping, snoring sounds were heard galore
Only this, and nothing more

On my way to the big city, Philadelphia, very pretty
I remember from the old times, that I had been there before
I was meeting some dear poet, big surprise, she had to show it
In the area, closed to public, we went up to the fifth floor
In the library of this city, she just opened one big door
Only that, and nothing more

Silence reigned in this here study, all cleaned up, not even muddy
And the walls, they were all covered, from the ceiling to the floor
With the books of famous writer, Dickinson could not be brighter
Desk and chair, his pen and ink pot, there was so much to explore
That alone was overwhelming, but she went through one more door
Going through, and nothing more

In the hallway on a table, all stuffed up and with a label
Which was telling that this black bird, had been owned by Charles before
He was standing there quite proudly, though he once murmured not loudly
After gently rapping, tapping, softly on Poe's chamber door,
As an echo on Poe's whispered, only spoken word 'Lenore'
Merely this, and nothing more

It was special and impressive, even quite a bit excessive
That I had the chance to glance, at this pet which I adore
It is kept in good condition, it's a raven with a mission
From a time that life was diff'rent, which will not return, no more
I can tell you that my jaw, almost lowered to the floor
Only that, and nothing more

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had the pleasure to have looked upon this famous raven, pet of Charles Dickinson, wich is kept in closed area in Philadelphia's City Library.