Quoth the Specter, 'Nevermore.'

Once upon a midnight session, while I fueled my blog obsession,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of current news,
While I pondered, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my study door.
'It’s no time for interruptions', I said, 'tapping at my door,
only this, and nothing more'.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the midst of springtime,
And each separate dying blog did cast its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished for something; - vainly I had tried to google,
Searching blogs from past that captured – all the right-wing blogs of yore.
For the past and fleeting decade which the left-wing damned in hatred
Nameless here for evermore?

Presently my soul grew stronger; no hesitation I did offer,
'Hey,' I said, 'please, Honey, truly your indulgence I implore'.
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently it came rapping,
And so faintly it came tapping, tapping at my study door,
That I scarcely thought I'd heard it - thus I opened wide the door;
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no blogger ever dared to dream before.
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only phrase there spoken, was the phrase, 'Right-wing no more'!
This I whispered, and an echo said again, 'Right-wing no more!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the study turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely', I said, 'surely that is something at my window frame';
Let me see then, what there is, and then this mystery I'll explain.
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery I’ll explain;
'It's just the wind and nothing more'!

Open then I raised the blind, when, with a tug and measured grind,
Out there stood a brooding Specter of the left-wing days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with nothing short of caution, moved onto my study floor.
Leaned against the door of entry just across my study floor
Leaned, and then did nothing more.

Then this Specter while intruding saw my face was lost and brooding,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
'Though thy head be short and shaven, thou,' I said, 'aren't surely left-wing'
Ghastly grim and ancient Specter coming from the leftist' shore.
Tell me what thy given name is on the Senate's Right Roll Call!'
Quoth the Specter, 'Nevermore.'

Much I marveled this ungainly Specter to hear words so plainly,
Though its answer had no meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing such a Specter 'gainst one's door
Bard or beast it still is leaning up against my study door,
With such name as 'Nevermore'?

But the Specter, leaning lonely on my door, spoke once and only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a leftist thought uncovered
Till I scarcely more than muttered 'Others' rights must come before
I hope tomorrow it will leave me, as my hopes have gone before thee.'
Said the Specter, 'Nevermore'.

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the ghost whose hollowed eyes now burned into my laptop's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's new black lining that the lamp descended o'er,
But whose new and leather lining with the lamp's decided shining,
He shall not say, what, 'Nevermore'!

Then, I thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen gesture
Swung by Reid and Madam Speaker who's foot-falls came 'cross the floor.
'Ghost,' I cried, 'thy god hath lent thee - by these devils he has sent thee
Respite - respite and please don't question all my blogs of right-wing yore!
Answer, answer this one question, don't forget my blogs of yore'
Quoth the Specter, 'Nevermore'.

'Prophet'! I said, 'thing of evil! - prophet still, if ghost or weasel!
Whether Reid has sent, or whether Madam Speaker sent you here,
Desolate, yet, I am undaunted, on this blogging task enchanted -
In my home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there still a balm in Congress? - tell me - tell me, I implore'!
Quoth the Specter, 'Nevermore'.

'Be thy word a sign of parting, ghost or fiend'! I shrieked upstarting
'Get thee back into the Congress and the Senate's Right Roll Call!
Leave no black cloud as a token of that lie your soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the frame around my door!
Take thy shadow from my heart, and take thy form from off my door'!
Quoth the Specter, 'Nevermore'.

And the Specter, never leaving, still is watching, still is leaning
On the outside of my door frame leaning on my study door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp that streams around him throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow hurries, floating on the floor
It shall be lifted - nevermore!

My apologies to Edgar Allan Poe.