The Lion

Wow... The title says it all. I have no problem whatsoever with the use of medieval words, but make sure that you use the correct forms with a few words in the first, second or third tense. But overall the use of grammar and language is excellent!!

Hey Ignatius! I like the feel of your poem and the poem's subject. What can I say? Predatory cats in dreams make me happy. Mostly for me, it's tigers, but whatever!

I have a question about your medieval feel that you want to create... is it strictly medieval, or is kind of mismatch between medieval and modern language? I ask because you say at first, "Lion lion where art thou?" But then you use "you" and "your" for the rest of your poem. Being strictly medieval, this would be like addressing a plurality of lions. But, it seems like you don't want to do this?

Also, I noticed that you used the word "doth" sometimes. And once, you're correct since you are referring to a third person entity. But sometimes, when you are referring to the lion, this is incorrect. It should be "dost" since you're referring to a second person entity.

Also, you should know that it kind of goes like this:

thou (verb)-est

(third person entity) (verb)-eth.

Anyway, if you want to be more medieval about it, this might look better:

Lion, lion where art thou?
Hiding in these darkest dreams.
Thou mayest creep and try to hide,
but I can feel thee in the night.

Though from far away thy roar dost sound,
Thy terrors are so close at hand.
Wherefore dost you slink to now?
Thy shadow playeth upon my heart.

And sleep doth stir beyond my grasp.
I can feel thy ghastly breath,
and thy claws of iron grip
to where my chest doth hardly heave.

Thy golden eyes gleamest in dark,
hunting for my beating heart.
Paws that patter swift but soft,
running like the hounds of hell.

The jaws of death upon thy maw,
that hunger for my weary soul,
tasteth the fear that e'er abounds;
thou howlest with rage yet untamed.

Thy claws that gripped around my throat,
and had lay me in my final rest,
now pause to pull now back the veil,
to hear the stillness of my heart.

Outrageous so contagious! I really liked this I like the old school medieval feel, like Shakespeare.

Claws that grip around my throat,
that lay me in my final rest.
Pause to pull now back the veil,
and hear the stillness of my heart.

Hey,
Thanks for requesting a review, and I am so sorry that I am super late. I'm now adjusted to college life, so hopefully i'll be on more. You had some good reviews, and I really liked this poem; it was refreshing from soem more modern poems I've seen. I really don't have anything that I want you to change. If you have any questions or need another review feel free to ask.

Have a great day,
Tiffany

This is awesome! I love the usage of the old language, and it super duper annoys me when people use some old language, but not all! Fabulous work with consistency before. Also, it's a beautiful poem. Props! Also, with rhythm, I almost always find poems with very sloppy and not-working rhythm, and this is one of few that flows normally without any hiccups. Some have trouble turning poems that don't use rhymes into poems rather than stories(Ahem. That would be me.), however, your poem didn't have rhymes and yet it flowed beautifully and anybody would know it's a poem.

Lion, lion where art thou?
Hiding in these darkest dreams.
You may creep and try to hide,
but I can feel you in the night.

Claws that grip around my throat,
that lay me in my final rest.
Pause to pull now back the veil,
and hear the stillness of my heart.

This is so good. I like the use of sort of old language, and the dramatic, suspenseful mood.The figuarative language added to the drama, using a lion as a symbol for the fears that haunt you. The meaning of it is kind of deep. So basically, good job, and keep up the good work. If there's anything you need to work on, maybe use a consistent rhyme scheme, since some stanzas seem to rhyme while others don't. Good luck, and keep writing.

Edits in red

Though from far away your roar does sound,
your terrors are so close at hand.
Wherefore doth you slink to now?
Your shadow plays upon my heart.

Claws that grip around my throat,
that lay me in my final rest.
Pause to pull back the veil, I took out the word now, it didn't seem right in the line.
and hear the stillness of my heart.

Hiya - I'm here as requested!

Okay, so, this was...alright. I know you asked for the 'thous' and 'arts' not to be critiqued, but I have to say that I'm not the biggest fan of their being used. I think it's a tricky style to pull off; and I'm not sure you did it justice. I guess that, in my mind, there is no connection beteen medevilish stuff and lions. If there is, please let me know.

I saw no real purpose in the poem. Does the topic serve any significance to you? If it does, would you be able to include it in the spoiler, or incorporate the personal meaning in the body of the poem itself?

On the plus side, your imagery is pretty good. I think that's your strong point: your clever usage of similes and metaphors. However, although I understand using imagery to create a deeper theme, I think, in this case, it hindered the reader from the true meaning behind your words of symbolism. I didn't quite understand the point, or where the poem was headed. As I said before, it had no real direction or purpose.

To be rather frank, I have percieved that perhaps, just perhaps, you have tried to copy William Blake's style of poetry. If you haven't I apologise.

Anyway, this be the end of my review. I can't really think of anything else to say, other than: I liked your poem, but there is room for improvement. I hope I haven't come across to harsh! I'm only trying to help you!

Anyway, any questions or whatever, PM me.

~ Amelia

Lion, lion where art thou? Between this and your introduction, I'm already hooked.
Hiding in these darkest dreams.
You may prowl and try to hide,
but I can feel you in the night.Great first stanza!

Though from far away your roar does sound, I would rather this was shorter, as it is it feels too much longer than your other lines.
your terrors are so close at hand.
Wherefore doth you slink to now? thou would sound so much better here, but then all the other yous would sound wierd. So I guess this is fine. I just don' like how doth you sounds.
You shadows plays upon my heart. Shadow plays or shadows play.

And sleep does stir beyond my grasp. this line felt out of place with the rest of the stanza.
I can feel your ghastly breath,
and your claws of iron grip I like how you worded this, even though it sounds strange and weirdly worded, but it fits here, very well.
to where my chest doth hardly heave.

Golden eyes that shine in dark, I think through would work better than in.
hunting for my beating heart.
Paws that patter swift but soft,
running like the hounds of hell.Good!

The jaws of death upon your maw, I know why you chose maw, but it makes me laugh... which interrupts the mood of your poem...
that hunger for my weary soul,
taste the fear that's all around,
and howl with rage that's yet untamed. Worded weirdly... maybe you can rearrange these words and make them sound more natural?

Fingers, like talons, around my throat, No comma after talons.
that lay me in my final rest.
Pause to pull now back the veil,Again, a bit difficult to get your wording.
and hear the stillness of my heart.

You shadows plays upon my heart.

I don't like your poem, I loves it!! Really you have a GREAT sense of imagery!! There is really nothing bad that I can say about this poem, you must have been really feeling the medieval mood or something!!

Golden eyes that shine in dark,
hunting for my beating heart.
Paws that patter swift but soft,
running like the hounds of hell.

Hello. Here as requested.

Ignatius5453 wrote:
Lion, lion where art thou?
Hiding in these darkest dreams.
You may prowl and try to hide, This makes no sense. How can the lion go from prowling to hiding?
but I can feel you in the night. I think this would sound better if 'feel' was replaced with 'sense'.

Golden eyes that shine in the dark,
hunting for my beating heart.
Paws that patter swift but soft,
running like the hounds of hell.

The jaws of death upon your maw,
that hunger for my weary soul,
taste the fear that's all around,
and howl with rage that's yet untamed. I really like this stanza. Beauiful imagery.

Fingers, like talons, around my throat, Lions don't have fingers. Try 'paws' or 'claws'.
that lay me in my final rest.
Pause to pull now back the veil,
and hear the stillness of my heart.