The day dawned bright with autumn gold
where slits of light cut through the wold,
bright flowers stood.
A blessing rang of bird and song
as waters lapped the while along
by Firnham Wood.
At length red flame turned indigo
the moon appeared a distant glow
where blackness fell.
In shifting shades of eerie light
that pressed the silence of the night,
a lonely bell.
There in the pitch of midnight dark
reflecting on the hoary bark,
a flickered flame.
As to and fro it cast about
grotesque gyrations that standout,
in this time frame.
When shadows take on shades of life
and sounds are tremblings of strife,
so we believe.
No other date within the year
can fill the darkness with such fear,
All Hallows Eve.
Now homeward bound, the church bell rings,
caught by a draft it once more swings
in dawn's grey light.
That cast off cigarette burned slow,
the fire it lit, a furtive glow,
to all, goodnight.
Comments
Excellent,
Excellent, i felt as though i knew this place. Regards Roscoe...
You had me...
within the first stanza! I love the rhythm of this. It sounds very like Poe and in the manner of that era. I was having such a good time with this, that when I came to the line; " and sounds are tremblings of strife", I flinched! I read on after trying to make the line fit the rhythm, but it was so jarring that I spent the next ten minutes trying to work out a line that did the job! You may just have to ditch the preceding line in order to work things out. Too bad, because the line is just so good, but sometimes we have to change or get rid of a line like that because there is no way to fit the two together. I sincerely hope that this is not the case and urge you to make a huge effort to fix it. All-in-all, a really superb poem that is season appropriate. ~ Gee.
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Geezer
It should be a simple fix, I think the sound pattern is
and sounds are tremblings of xxx strife
so I will give thought to what might best fit there.
Thank you.
Keith,
I love it. Something about traditional western forms and rhymes suits Halloween and the holidays so wonderfully. The colors and imagery are delightful and I learned a new word: wold!
I actually really like "and sounds are tremblings of strife". It reminds me of the Gothic writers like the Shelleys, Byron, Coleridge and the rest. Of course, I'm terrible with meter so it could just be that my ears can't catch what Gee is hearing. If you do decide to make a change, I hope "tremblings of strife" or something very close can be maintained.
Take care,
Kelsey
I have thought long and hard
There will be no change. Tremblings was the word that appeared to be a syllable short but that is only on the page. When read out loud it can easily be three sylables here in the UK.