I once, on Samhain Night dwelling on a folly,
with ponderings swollen of glum melancholy,
called out to a lone wolf Moon,
and She to Eris by way of croon,
a wan gal of reverie, yet still I remained wary.
Her moist merlot lips brushed against my ear,
and only when She was certain I would hear,
She whispered it to me first,
"this tonight we are cursed,"
Her words were knots, but Her eyes sincere.
With my hand in Hers, She uprooted my stay,
though my heels stood place, they swept away
to just outside the ivory gate
upon edge of Oceanus straight,
to confetti shores alive with sprightly soiree.
A shroud parade locked in permanent promenade
which with my fair Lady I faced unequally afraid,
fragrant of lavender and jasmine
and yet, a faint trail of other men,
and all by Her nothing else ever so unswayed.
In cloak and gown each spectre donned a mask,
the Lady skimmed steadily to an open wine cask,
amber nectar gilding the lily,
and I pledged of sweet cherry,
Her promises professed and relished and basked.
In this Old Malmok house on the isle of Bonaire
fleet footing fancied the glowworms on the air,
this rapture clothed my fear
as if so silent all these years,
thus a king and queen, Castelo Branco for a pair.
We danced upon the colors of Harvest grapes
and freely stepping through deciduous scapes
to each lullaby of seraphic prose
of each awed key of lovely Amos,
between soot and stars we waltzed to our agape.
As we spun around and round, She apprised
and so pleaded me with wistful viridian eyes
from deep behind Her ashen mask
to guess Her true name or ask,
and so I adopted the auguring wind to advise.
Within a sultry sense I whispered, "Pandemos,
the one for whom I desire, for whom I obsess,
the dove, the swan, the sparrow,
Gaelic voice of a Secret Rose,"
as tongue came to rest, She waited to confess.
Below the two branches we swayed as seagrass
beneath the banks of the Great Euphrates pass,
across the spectrum of Stone space
She removed the white veil from face
revealing that the omen breeze led me amassed.
Twin leaf sea dragons swam aside the isle's brooch
as the delicate, dreary Dawn's opaque sister awoke,
but atop Venus I was found aflame
in gardens of Twilight by no name,
and writer's ink spilled as Night made for approach.
She held illimitable dominion by ghastly caste,
perhaps borne of Babel or Ishtar all long past,
again She said as if rehearsed,
"this tonight we were cursed,"
and anew I slept of lament back home in Belfast.
Author notes
I drew on a lot of sources for this one, including: various geography (since the landscape keeps changing with the dance), mythology (Greek, Roman, Irish), other writers (Yeats, Poe, Gaiman), autumn holidays and traditions, and some musical sources.
In a list
Comments
1 - 23 of 23
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I can tell you put a lot of effort into it and it shows, it's nice to read a poem of such complexity, and with such a good rhyme scheme. Some really good stuff going on in the poem. I did get a little bogged down in the language though, and had trouble really grasping what you were saying. It's beautifully written and has some great imagery, but I found it hard to follow, and I couldn't make out the story. I think you have a lot of talent though, maybe I'm just not smart enough to fully appreciate it. Thanks for entering.
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Twin leaf sea dragons swam aside the isle's brooch
as the delicate, dreary Dawn's opaque sister awoke
love the fact you added dragons -
"Her moist merlot lips brushed against my ear,
and only when She was certain I would hear,
She whispered it to me first,
"this tonight we are cursed,"
Her words were knots, but Her eyes sincere."
Could you be a greater writer? I don't think so, you truely never fail to amaze me. Your poetry is well developed and deep, you research your pieces, and though you borrow inspiration from other great poets, your poetry is never tainted with unoriginality. I truely love your masterpieces, and I never get bored when reading them. You always keep me thinking, and for that I'm deeply apreciative.
Kaitlyn
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I was fascinated by the way you dealt with adverse criticism. I don't care for this type of poetry but I can see your poetic talent nonetheless. I have learnt from you my friend - it is a true test of character to respond with such dignity and patience to "negative vibes" about your poem, whether or not they are accurate. I have to say I admire you and am glad that so many expressed positive views on this poem. I wish you every success. camus
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Thank you very much. I appreciate the kind words. For years I stuck to rhyme, but have lately gotten away from it. But I wanted this one to sound like an old tale with a bit of a modern twist, and tried my best to make the rhymes connect and not sound strained. I'm not one to resort to bitter replies, so I keep my composure. I truly admire constructive criticism when it's given in a way that someone can actually learn from it. Once again, thank you for your compliments.
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I hate the nursery rhyme style... I am glad you know the past of Samhain good references but I feel like it is missing something... Good story line but I feel like the imagery is lacking as I dont feel what she does or see it in her eyes and thats what I want
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I defintely appreciate the honesty, though I'm not sure I understand. This actually had little to do with Samhain and makes no reference to it other than the first line. Also, this may be "nursery rhyme style," yet it is not a nursery rhyme, nor do all nursery rhymes read in this form.
I'm glad you liked the story, but oddly enough, there isn't much of one. The main focus of this piece was to convey imagery, which entails the numerous locations, the color of her eyes, the mask, the masquerade, the dawn, the night, the wine, and her scent. I could keep going, but there is 60 lines worth.
I'm not sure how much else I could describe about her, and in doing so would change the purpose of the poem. If I was to go further, I would say I shouldn't desribe her anymore more due to the name I gave her. But I do thank you for the honesty. I'm just not sure how much more descriptive I could be without the lack of story showing through.
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A wonderufl mythical journey - I did so enjoy it. I read it twice before comment and so glad I did as your word useage is superb and I missed some of the meaning on the first attempt.
It's beautiful.
Vonnie
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Wow this is excellent, I normally don't comment because I am horrible at it, but I just wanted to say its excellent!
♥Kate
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WOW
You write like the bards of old, in mumured ryme of history retold.
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Excellent
Its not quite an Aisling, but has many of the qualities. I have yet to come across one that isnt an Aisling Polatiúl, usually those would deal with the poor state of Ireland at the time, the Flight Of The Earls, Chharles Edward Stuart etc. I have never seen an Aisling which was positive or optimistic.
And im guessing the girls name is Erin, being a form of Eireann, although Eire is the name used when referring directily to the country.
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Wow!
Wow. This is awesome. It holds an Olde English style but a 20th centuury appeal to it. I love this. You are exceptionally talented to write such a poem. I dare not say more lest I cheapen it.
John
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The night of Samhain, cursed? That I do not understand. But I do understand the beautiful imagery, and the idea of night and dreams. Also, I think it's wonderful that Gaiman is next to Years and Poe!
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Wow
trandescendingly beautiful. one of those poems i can't leave a proper comment for because it was so amazing. i love the allusions because of the rich meat it adds to it. mythology is of great interest to me and i loved knowing some of the things mentioned in your poem. now i get to look up the things i don't know :]
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Aisling
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Yes, it definitely resembles one. The irony is that the real girl's name means "Ireland." I won't say it, but I'm sure it can be easily figured out.
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A most excellent and awesome sharing! Thank you for adding this into the contest!
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Beautiful
I'm quite fond of literary allusions and poetry with strong themes. Shallow, this is not. You refrain from trite rhymes, and your form is almost impeccable.
Thank you for not explaining any of the allusions within the context of your poem (it's a pet peeve of mine when authors don't believe their audience to be smart or well-read enough to know to what they are referring).
CC: In paragraph seven, are you referring to "agape" as in love, or "agape" as in "wide open"? The latter definition didn't make contextual sense, but if you were going for a type of love, then the word does not rhyme in the form, being pronounced "a-gah-peh."
A fine write, and I certainly look forward to more -
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I meant "agape" as in love, but you're definitely right about that line. That's one of the words I used that just never sat well with me. I'm going to have to give it some more thought now. I appreciate that you pointed that out and I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for the honest feedback.
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*gasp*
wow...this is...amazing...the words so colorful...great job!
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Beautiful Piece!!! Good luck in the contest!Betsy
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AMAZING.She has certainly allowed her gifts to flow forth unto you.
Your talent is truly expressed through this,I love the way that it not only creates its own fantastically vivid images,but it also allows me to recall other images that i am reminded of through reading this.
your flow and beat are wonderful,your rhyme...vocabulary,imagery...its all perfection -
fantastic! your a finalist!
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