I enter the Drab old room
Of the hotel in the north
Dropping my bags at the foot of the bed
An inspiration coming forth
I grab a small pen
From the writing desk
Threw myself on the bed
Giving the pen a little test
When I had two black lines
I started a new sheet
A story spinning and forming
Of an elf with swift feet.
She ran from large horrors
Fought those she could
That elf with silver hair
beautiful and swift of foot
She twirled around trees
Heart pulsing hard
Hearing the green leaves shake
He looked on from afar
Her most feared enemy
From which she's always running
She sped right to
completely unknowing
She cringed, when
caught in his iron grip
Screamed, then fell limp
Entering an abyss
Unconscious but scared
She was locked in his castle
He laughed and said,
"She wasn't much of a hassle."
"This time" She corrected
Only in her mind.
Bending back the feeble bars
Becoming hard to find.
Opening her eyes
She stepped forth on cool marble
She dared not speak
Her speech still garbled.
Luckily they never
Removed her sword
She pulled out the steel
The hilt wrapped with cord
She ran through the gates
The guards quickly slain
She escaped the cold fortress
Running once again.
A contest entry
- one day ;; contest. by Kathraina.
400 points, ended October 28, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
-
nicely done
this was really good, i really liked it, this had great imagery and rhyme! it flowed nicely and told a good tale. very good job i liked it. made me think...
-
Nicely done with the rhyme here! I really enjoyed the flow of this piece, escpecially the tale you told here. Very good job!
bravo and thank you for entering
♥ kate -
Good
Very intriguing -
Apart from questions of verbal tense ( I grab vs Threw, in lieu of I grabbed or Throw) and the nicety of "the small pen" as in "I grab the small pen", lending itself to substituting a descriptive word in place of an article (which in general this piece would benefit from, even cutting out the articles here and there, to increase the pace at which it reads and so compund the imagery),
eg.
I grabbed small pen
From writing desk
Threw myself onto bed
Gave their pen a little test
...where was I? O yes...
Apart from that, an extension of the story or at least a clearer linking up of images, perhaps a denouement that the author and the story elf are one, and the visiting of the hotels is the story being written of, would elevate the class of the poem, let alone the minds of readers thereof.
eg. (To have a go at it, short and swift, with the abcb rhyme scheme, no syllable limit but short lines)
Like ink through forests
In rivulets she forgoes
And forgets just what
Now nobody knows.
Into that page of her
History I put me
And she and I and
Page were three.
Our Holy Trinity
Begat more inspiration
As I sat and wrote at
That desk, life station.
Understanding was my
Libation and I grew
Frustrated as any who
Run out of paper have to
Move to another hotel to continue.
********
Break of form in the end stanza is of course, like a final guitar strum or drum roll, a fine way to bring a poem to a crescendo and so end.
MA
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