FOREVERMORE! © 1996 George Kovach

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The intensity of the sun was an inferno as it ruptured through the tranquil sepulcher beneath the wintering Montague sky. Twas if the earth had split open and the reflection of Hell's fire was terminal while it singed the silence where darkness once laid. From the facious throat of the untamed wilderness the wicked cry of a lone coyote screamed madly as the last particle of moonlight vanished into the last filtration of nightness. With the last ounce of stale cinnamon tea still tormenting my mouth I squeezed the first drops of ink from my quill, as I began scripting the tale of all tales! Time had no essence, nor a purpose to stand in my way for the ink oozed freely like the serenity of the Delaware River. With each stroke canoeing from my nimble fingers I somehow recalled a remarkable event from the eye of my psyche. As the fragile point of my quill carved an immortal indentation to the paper I found myself subconsciously falling backwards into time; while my every word harnessed me towards the present that a mortal dreamer believes to be the future! All that I could vision from within the shroud of my soul was a mirroring image of some previous life if not the conception of some unawakened dream that was desperate to surface from the presence of some unidentifiable sylph that haunted my cottage. All that I could do to control that noble voice in my head was to listen to that haunting echo of an effeminate voice stammering faintly from within the crackling flames of the fireplace. Once again winter's bitter breath had bitten the very bone of me as it gnawed likewise at my brittle flesh. All the earth had become a barren wasteland as I awaited for the first snowfall so that it could glitter like angel wings against the halo of the afternoon sun. All twas still. All twas silent. Except for the sounds of modernism controlling this plane of materialism! As each pulsating stroke of the quill styled a tiny snowflake fell and melted against the window pane allowing my heart to sear with an ember of cordiality. The very thoughts of my tale warmed me as the wicked wintry wind swept layers of snow from neighboring rooftops. Twas if a giant brush was carving immaculate designs into the crystals of creamy white. Each twas so perfect! Each twas so dainty carved. Twas if a master artist had reached his hand downward from heaven and completed his masterpiece upon the infinite canvas of olde mother earth. The day was beginning to fall unto night. My quill was blunt and dry. The color of my eyes was turning red like the cinders in the hearth and my fingers were numb because the cold winter wind had bitten them with its frigid mouth. The room was beginning to turn colder and the temperature felt like it was dropping a degree a second as I bundled my cape tighter around me and leaned closer towards the lantern to warm my hands. A few listless birds huddled on the snowy sill just as a vault of smoke rose like the ghost of old man winter from the chimney across the way. As the smoke floated upward into the heavens I sat back in my chair as a sudden image from the past began coming to life within the catacombs of my mind.

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With an obscure sigh and a light tapping of my fingers to the table I leaned back in my chair and whispered a pleasant goodnight to my angelic one. I told her that it twas one day closer of meeting her among those unforgettable memories that were our stepping stones to the future. A tear streamed from the corner of my eye and a lump in my throat kept getting larger as I momentarily gazed towards the center of the hearth to stare into the fiery ash. It reminded me of her long auburn hair that cascaded down her soft slender shoulders. As I pondered the image, I could almost hear her assuring voice cry out as I closed my eyes to dream of her as I always did. Somehow, my dream kept obsessing me as I'd recall that night when she had fallen frail to her own guilt. With the utmost, I could still remember how the night was settling atop the planet. The last ounce of sunlight appeared like brazen angel wings and the darkness slowly crawled along the gallowing horizon to leave the edge of dusk to corrode with a garter of black lace.From the distance her innocent childlike voice softly cried as it tried to coax me to lay at her side so we could share the essence of each precious memory forever! But, I just closed my eyes and watched as the shadows of those unforgettable retentions unleashed the desires just as the plumes of nightfall fanned blackness before me. With each plume fanning an eclipse of opacity nature pulled her lacy garter tighter and that pulsating pounding in my heart quivered rapidly, as I tried to resist those unforgettable urges from my psyche! The echo of her fading voice carved truth within, as I awakened from my dream. With the undying sound of her words pondering my dearest thoughts, the image of the past rose once again and allowed me to compose the aspiration that lurked her every breath from her fiery soul. Those treasured moments with her in the city still breathed through me as I lifted my tattered quill from the table - with the quill rolling through my fingers - the faint rumble of carriage wheels echoed through my mind as I envisioned the tails of her long embroidered cape hanging over the side of the buggy that dusted the sooty street stones below. I could feel her hand slide into mine and the fragrance of a rare French perfume scented the universe with a sweet garnish that was much sweeter than any flower that blossomed in our enchanted garden. As I pondered the image of my dream the wind softly chanted to tell me that she still belonged to me and she must return! It said, that I must allow time to stand still so we could once again venture upon the horizon of the future that was cloven by a madman! With the dream still lingering in my head, I dimmed the lamp light low and once again closed my eyes so that the immortal dream could develop into a reality.

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My pen twas like a sliver of light that brushed away the darkness! The ink in the well was a lingering swirl of ebony that mixed the future with gallivant strands of orange, purple, and a pale violet. My quill was oozing an immortal indentation to the carcass of the paper and a twittering of night birds harmonized with the winter wind as they serenaded my tale with serenity. Overhead the moonlight brightly shimmered full as it entwined with the stern morality of the street lamps. Each fading sound of each dying second attained my delirious self as my brain and soul conversed to conjure the reality of such a felicity of desires. With my douring quill marking my tale to the paper, I visualized the very being of us stepping onto those cobblings that once tossed our black fringed buggy from side to side up and down then from side to side once more. As I lengthened the divinity of my tale my thoughts drifted me along those quiet streets of tainted city lights towards the shell of our cold, humble cottage. I could still feel her hand holding mine just as I visioned the mare stumbling over the broken hobblings of cobblestone. I could also recall how our breath became frozen within the clutch of a cold winter's night and how our every word seemed to freeze and dissolve into thin air. As I turned to look into her eyes my sight became blurred from the obsession of romance and the tears that fell were failing to shelter my heart. As I tried to utter my hearts desires she raised a finger and placed it to my lips to tell me that she could read my every thought! And, with a flame of deep passion burning inside the pit of my heart I softly cried a few poetic lines and mysteriously turned a frigid winter's eve into a wonderland of enchantment. My poem echoed atop the snow cobbled street and the lantern on the rear of the carriage swayed from side to side and its orange embering light became like a glamorous dancer from one of the most romantic plays from the Renaissance. With the cold winter wind howling through the bare branches of the trees those demons of the darkness once again tried to taunt us as we fell deeper in love. And, with the eternal flame of love burning fire through our souls not a care tended to lure those dreadful creatures from behind every lamp post and tree trunk as they sarcastically repeated my every line. Such foolery twas child's play, as the demonic shadows of a winter's night escorted us along the icy cobblings. We were like playful and happy children as we followed that windy country road of winter's paradise. Her voice soothed me with tenderness. Each beat of her yearning heart twas ever caring. And, the look on her face warmed me as she tried to hold back her tears. As her tears began to fall mine fell even more and I whispered to tell all the world that we had treasures here on earth that were far more valuable than any that heaven could ever know! My voice thunderously bellowed through the crisp night air as she gently wrapped her arm around mine and held my hand.With her hand secured into mine our tears began falling freely as they rolled down our frost bitten cheeks. Every tear seemed to say I LOVE YOU as our lips warmed one another with a smile that was brighter than the aura of the moon! And, with our smiles turning into a kiss the carriage wheels slid to a sudden stop outside the cottage. As I pulled the icy break tight I lifted her from the seat to the walkway and quickly covered her with my cape as I led her into those humble walls of home. The latch on the weathered, beaten door creaked open as I opened my eyes to vision a world that had entrapped me between immortality and a memory. With a quick dip of my quill to the well fear pondered my never ending dream as the moon slipped behind a few lingering clouds. The room began growing colderwhile my heart ached with memory of her stilling presence. As each memory seemed to come to life my scribbling, fingers neared the bottom of the paper as my hand gripped around the shaft of the tattered quill. The quill molded in my hands and the lump in my throat swelled with agony as l called out for my angelic one! Every syllable of my tongue seemed to bring her to life as the thoughts and years dissolved from the backbone of time. Her very image twas only a memory that was like a candle chandelier that hung within the realm of my heart. As each candle flickered, twas like a blessing that enabled me to relive the desires of her long awaited return. With each candle flaming to its fullest the winter wind howled through the shutters and mimicked her voice as if she was sitting there with me.

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Several weeks have passed and the horror of winter still beckoned outside my window. Fragments of ice clung to the eaves and the snow covered branches magically balanced atop the wind. Hungered starlings huddled by the chimney with great hopes of nature to release her frigid curse. The house twas quiet. The room twas still. Only the sound of a crackling fire echoed as I once again attempted my tale among these hallowed walls of embitterment. With the scratching of my tattered quill and the ink smudging with tears I somehow heard a voice crying out to me from within the hearth. A great curiosity bubbled inside me, as l lifted from my chair and staggered slowly towards the inglenook.With a great curiosity bubbling through my entire soul - I knelt down on my hands and knees in front of the hearth so I could hear the voice more clearly. The voice kept maddening and it kept getting clearer as I recalled those demons of the night that taunted my brain with insanity! With one eye on the flames and with one hand slowly reaching for the stoker the voice once again called out from the crackling fire. It cried out in such a way that it brought tears to my eyes and a chill to my mortal bones. With a quick gasp and a deep breath I yelled from the top of my lungs to tell the voice that I would not give in! But, the voice still cried out! It cried out to me like an orphan that had become lost in the shroud of night It was her voice that I recognized! But, I refused to hear it or believe it. With the stoker molded firmly in my hand I aimed it at the fire - as I leaped forward to plunge its sharp point into the crackling flames! Before I could thrust the iron rod into the fire a vortex emerged from within the hearth and opened from the intensity of the fiery heat. I watched fearfully as a cloud of transparent light began ascending from the whirling mass! I could hardly believe my eyes as the transparency slowly floated to the carpet as it suddenly anachronized an image of a beautiful woman. My heart pounded with anticipation as I watched the light become brighter! I couldn't believe my eyes, because on the floor in front of me stood the ghost of my angelic one! Twas like a dream come true as her image stood there staring at me. She was dressed in the white gown that I had purchased for her from a little shop in Milford. Around her neck hung the diamond necklace that was the first gift that I had ever given her! Even the fiery locks of her hair glowed as she stepped forward to embrace me as she had done so many times before. With her loving arms wrapped around me and her soft lips touching mine she longingly placed a passionate kiss upon my lips that tingled through my entire body. My body trembled as the kiss ignited a dying spark in my heart. As the spark burst into an inferno I soon realized that my dream had finally come true because we were standing there romantically embraced as spirit and flesh! Never, in all my days have I ever experienced such a phenomenon! As I felt the sensation of her love tremor through my mortal body that yearning light of the vortex slipped inside me and tightly molded around my heart.With our hearts entwined as one I soon realized that true love never dies! And, with my hands clutched to my chest I called out her name as I felt her moving through my entire soul. My voice echoed through the dark, damp cottage as I began dancing about the room. Everything in the universe seemed to open and laid precious gifts at my feet. Then, as I reached to take my quill from the table I suddenly became frail and fell to the floor. As I laid there helpless like a fallen angel, from out of the center of my chest, slowly rose that ever faithful spirit my soul mate! She somehow began to take on her mortal form, as she lifted from beneath my flesh. Before I could utter a sound, the last of her fiery locks drew from within me as she reached out for my hand, so she could lift me from that bare, dusty floor. A fiery passion burned in her eyes as she softly called out... "MY DEAREST ONE" At that moment, I threw the quill to the floor, because I knew that she had found a way to return just as she had promised! I knew deep down inside that it wasn't the fiery flames that evolved her it was the vow of true love that allowed her to become "MY ANGELIC ONE" ... and, with her at my side once again, we are able to complete the cycle of life that God intended. FOREVERMORE!

This concludes FOREVERMORE!, by George Kovach. This story represents a real life experience. "FOREVERMORE! is about the loss of Poe's wife, Virginia, who is now in my life. We're getting ready to continue and complete all necessary events," says George. He believes his life parallels that of Edgar Allen Poe and, because of his talent, he is reliving events in Poe's life. While I admit there is room for skepticism, I can only say that George's conviction is convincing evidence of the possibility.

In the short time I've known George, I've come to know many sides of his talent, but just when I think I've seen the whole picture - WHAM - he comes up with something else! What I found most striking about George is that there seems to be no end to the scope of his creative abilities.

In many ways this variety is to his advantage, setting him apart from other artists who specialize in one or two areas. However, George has run into some difficulty trying to label himself, and is always seeking new ways to market his talent. He says there is a much better appreciation for his work in Europe than in the U.S., mainly because Shakespeare and Poe live on there in people's memories.

Such a rare outlet of inexhaustible incarnate energy should not go unnoticed - surely it must have its usefulness. It appears George is the epitome of the question many artists must confront: What is Art for? George uses his talent to show people there are more forces at work in our lives than we realize. Using himself as an example, he shows listeners the mystery of life and helps them enjoy and learn from their own potential.

For the present, George has plans to increase public awareness of his talent locally, but he thinks he will ultimately reside overseas. George recently received several awards from Cambridge in England, including International Man of the Year, taking him one step closer to being recognized as royalty. Many of his advisors and colleagues anticipate that he will end up in Europe, showcasing full-time.

Shortly after this article was published George appeared at the grand opening of Village Pastimes Emporium, an arts and crafts center in Drums, June 1 and 2, 1996. He sells books, tapes and writes poetry for special events. When last we spoke he had moved to Ohio.