Summer's Last Breath

Firstly, I'd like to make it clear that this is just a first draft that needs dramatic work. I simply want to know if the idea makes sense, or if there is a point to continuing with it. Please, critique, i shall not be offended if you decide it is best to place this poem in a muddy grave...





Only the wind which carries the scent
of summer’s last breath
Knows the untold secrets
which lie frozen in the land.
The birds whisper their goodbyes
to the bowing trees
As they shield the leaves which dance in pairs
From the winter.
His army will not end its continuous battle until
All but the bare stone graves
of those who once felt its sharp blade
are gone.
No mercy is held
In the coldest of hearts
As they murder those who block their path
On their frantic race against the night
which grows like thunder
In their stormy lives.
The sun no longer beats its heavy hands
On the dying land.
There are no clouds to be seen
in the bluest of skies
Now stained by the bleeding horizon.

awesomeness.
this is really really good nat!
i especially love the last few lines. they bring a great poem to a great end!!
I would mention one or two things that might help you so here they are...
1) i think you sometimes need to be a little careful with the rhythm so it doesnt chop and change. if you know what i mean. but it is very good in most places.
in fact that is the only point i have to make
good work old chum!
xx

Very nice. Not many rhymes...

The birds whisper their goodbyes /to the bowing trees/As they shield the leaves which dance
in pairs /From the winter.

The birds whisper their goodbyes/ To the sun that says his lies/ And to the bowing trees/ Telling storyes of the winds./ Their leaves fall, dead, cold like bloody tears/

In the rest i got no more ideas to say... Overall its a very nice poem.

Well, Nat, i love this poem! I think it's really very good. It's beautifully
descriptive and metaphorical. Wonderful.
I would point out that you said shield when you might have meant
shed. I'm not sure if shield makes sense... it might be an angle that
you are coming from?
Either way, it's definately not a poem that you want to scrap. If you want
to work on it, try shortening it a little and adding some other techniques too
like... er... what's that word? Internal rhyming? yeah. And alliteration and
assonance and all the other words that i can't spell that miss Woodley was always
bashing into us with a mallet. it could make it even more interesting,
particularly to read aloud. Other than that, i love it! I really do! And those are only
suggestions that i am making because i have absolutely nothing else to
draw on! Lol.
Btw, you must read Howl's Moving Castle - i am fairly sure that you will
love it, because i love it and you and i seem to have similar tastes in literary
stuff - i.e. despereaux, and am i right in thinking that you read the book thief?
This poem is a little like the writing in the book thief; unusual description, that is.
It's the best kind!
Also, before i take up all the space here, i changed the Senses poem that i wrote
and did as you suggested by adding in a couple of new verses and it's now
safe to say that i am quite pleased with it! Thankyou so much for sticking up
for me and my poor, bruised and tattered poem! Becky also left a lovely comment,
as you may have noticed, and i apreciate it very much.
I am going to give you a star for this because you definately deserve it,
and i am not just being kind and matey - i really do like it because it is my kind
of poem.

lots of hugs, from charlie. ^^

You definitely shouldn't scrap this - it's a great idea, but it could use some work.

natalie wrote:Only the wind carrying[s]which carries the scent
of[/s] summer’s last breath
knows the untold secrets
[s]which[/s] that lie frozen in the land.

I felt like this was a bit long-winded. I've shown you how I would edit it to make it more concise. Also the secrets being 'frozen' in the land suggests winter and coldness. I wasn't sure about the contrast between 'frozen' and summer.

The birds whisper their goodbyes
to the bowing trees
As they shield the leaves which dance in pairs
From the winter.

I don't understand this section. I can imagine how bowed trees would seem to be shielding their leaves, but I don't know what you mean when you say the leaves 'dance in pairs'. You could take that part out, simplifying the imagery of that stanza.

His army will not end its continuous battle until
All but the bare stone graves
of those who once felt its sharp blade
are gone.
No mercy is held
In the coldest of hearts
As they murder those who block their path
On their frantic race against the night
which grows like thunder
In their stormy lives.

This is the messiest section of the poem, I think. Whose army do you mean? Is this a character? I was wondering is this summer's army, the wind's, the trees'? It was confusing. Similarly, 'its sharp blade' had me trying to work out whose blade it was. The battle's? If you don't want to repeat the word, you could use 'war' as an alternative.

The last six lines are all one sentence, which runs on a bit. Try cutting out a clause or two, or making it two separate sentences.

I think this would also be the section of the poem where you want to inject more emotion, especially with a subject like war. You could mention what lies around the graves, or who the graves belong to - grandfathers, fathers, sons. At the moment, it is just too unclear to whom or what this section is referring.

The sun no longer beats its heavy hands
On the dying land.
There are no clouds to be seen
in the bluest of skies
Now stained by the bleeding horizon.

I love this stanza, except the idea of the sun's hands. That's just me, though! I love the 'bleeding horizon'. The imagery here is fantastic.

I noticed that sometimes you put a capital letter at the start of each new line, but sometimes you only use them where necessary (for example, after full stops). I'd recommend picking one way or the other and being consistent throughout.

The poem just needs tidied up, by fixing run-on sentences and the various occurrences of 'its' that could refer to a number of ideas.

Good luck!

thanks for all the tips guys. I really appreciate it.
i shall get to work on it as soon as possible.

This is fantastic! I love how you captured the end of summer in more ways than just the landscape, or just the temperature, or just the birds. It's great how you give relevance to the wind, the trees, the birds, the sky, etc.

As they shield the leaves which dance in pairs

I think the "which dance in pairs" is excessive. If you don't love it, chuck it. But if you want to keep it, maybe you should take it out and put it back in in a different way, such as "the pairs of dancing leaves". Right now it sounds like you didn't know what to do with it, so you plonked it on the end at the last second.

No mercy is held

I'm pretty sure it's impossible to "hold" mercy. You can show mercy, display mercy, beg for mercy, but I'm almost positive that you don't hold mercy. It sounds like you didn't want to say a version of "show no mercy" but it didn't work, maybe just change the end word.

Other than this, it's absolutely great! I just love the title, too. Such a pretty title...

Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. The way you converted the end of Summer into a poem is just marvelous. But I have to ask you. Why did you write about a war right after you wrote about summer? That the question.

Only the wind which carries the scent
of summer’s last breath (the summer's last breath)
Knows the untold secrets (A comma here)
which lie frozen in the land. (Should be 'which lies')
The birds whisper their goodbyes (A comma here)
to the bowing trees (A period here)
As they shield the leaves which dance in pairs
From the winter.
His army will not end its continuous battle until (A comma here)
All but the bare stone graves (And here)
of those who once felt its sharp blade (Again here)
are gone.
No mercy is held (A comma here again)
In the coldest of hearts
As they murder those who block their path
On their frantic race against the night
which grows like thunder (A comma here)
In their stormy lives.
The sun no longer beats its heavy hands (And here)
On the dying land.
There are no clouds to be seen (Again here)
in the bluest of skies
Now stained by the bleeding horizon.

You need to fix your punctuation marks in this. It's essential. Although, I still get the idea of the poem, it was good, so, well done.

Good luck.