Inspired by my friends and family who are die hard Baltimore Raven football fans. And though i have never needed an excuse to dye my hair purple, this is a tribute to those who have (finally) declared every Friday as Purple Friday. Honestly i could care less about football. However i am intrigued by the notion that the Baltimore Ravens were named after Edgar Allen Poe's poem, The Raven. Poe is buried in Baltimore,MD.
To learn more about Poe and the Baltimore Raven connection visit this special website http://knowingpoe.thinkport.org/library/news/ravens.asp
This one of a kind pendant was created with non-tarnish vibrant purple wire weaved into a Raven's nest. Eggs of stunning gold leafed glass beads black flecks are nestled inside. This delicate nest is about an inch diameter. It comes with your choice of a gorgeous midnight black or dark purple organza ribbon chain 16-18 inches long which can be adjusted to the length you desire. Or put on your favorite chain or silk cord. Please note that every nest is unique and handmade.
Makes a lovely gift for any Baltimore Raven football enthusiast, an Edgar Allen Poe fan or someone whose totem is the magical Raven. Enjoy with a Natty Boh, Hon!
Made with love and magic in my Planet Calamari Studio.
[First published in 1845]
| Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,|
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here 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 mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'