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Young Writers Society



From the epic, "Forest Bred"

by ~Volant~


The tale I give, which will outlive
All those whose fates entwine it,
Will tell you of the strangest love
Of those that try define it.

For none can say what of the way
Our lives may choose to go
The lives we lead come from the deed
Of them who lived ago.

You see ye there a maiden fair
With tresses like red wine
Her eyes are green and in between
A spirit unconfined.

And there's a lad all ragged clad
With eyes of royal gem
This youn man's heart was torn apart
By them that did forsake him.

Our noblemen we do condemn
For the trouble they invoke
Within our land we understand
They care nothing for us folk.

His Majesty (and company)
Merely stand by and view
His son and heir who bears with care
The pride of blood that's blue.

So lean in near that you may hear
The tale as I entwine it
With the strange love that tells us of
Our life, that we refine it.

~Bard D'oiche

(Actually written for a story, and this is only a clip of the very long poem. I'm not a very good poet, so I need some help.... :D Suggestions? Anything that really doesn't quite flow?)


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93 Reviews


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Thu Jun 25, 2009 4:53 am
~Volant~ says...



No, no, I don't mind. Everyone, when they review, tend to "rewrite" things, and some of the things I agree with. It tells me your suggestions in the context of the poem, which makes it easier to understand. :) Thanks for the review!




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Wed Jun 24, 2009 7:37 pm
JemimaPuddleDuck wrote a review...



I tend just to re-write people's poetry, as i'm not so good at telling what I mean, so instead I show it. At the end, I know you meant to repeat 'entwine' from the beginning but I changed it to 'unravell' as it seemed to illustrate the point, and is the opposite of entwine :-)
Hope this doesn't seem too horrid and arrogant - reply and tell me how horrible and irritating I am if you like - I don't mind :-)


This tale I give, which will outlive

All those whose fates entwine it,

Will show to you a curious love

(as those who've tried define it.)



For none can say what of the way

we take; they cannot know.

The lives we lead come from the deeds

Of of those from long ago.



and see ye there a maiden fair

With tresses as red wine?

Her eyes are green and in between

a spirit unconfined.



And there's a lad all ragged clad

his eyes of royal gem:

youth's tender heart was torn apart

By them that did forsake him.



Our noblemen we do condemn

For troubles they invoke

Within our land we understand

They care not for us folk.



His Majesty (and company)

stands back, where he can view

His son and heir who bears with care

The pride of blood that's blue.



So lean in near that you may hear

the tale as I unravell it:

strange love may tell us of

Our life, that we may refine it.


Jemima




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Mon Jun 22, 2009 12:47 pm
Jasmine Hart wrote a review...



Hi.

Your imagery is great here, and this flows very well.

I think that;
"Of those that try define it."
is a bit forced, as is the whole second stanza. You're being forced to twist your sentences for the sake of the rhyme-make your meaning come before your rhyme. If the sentence you write to rhyme with another line sounds forced, change the line you're rhyming with to have a rhyme which makes it easier for you.

The third stanza works well, but I'd change "You" to "So". I like;
"Her eyes are green and in between
A spirit unconfined."


I'd change;
"And there's a lad all ragged clad "
to "And there's a lad all in rags clad" as it sounds more natural. I'd change;
"By them that did forsake him. "
as it sounds forced.

I'd change "nothing" to "naught" or "not" as it fits the rhythm better.

"Our life, that we refine it," is forced and overly ambiguous. I'd also take another look at "entwine it with", as the story seems to be primarily about love, rather than being a story with love woven into it as a time-filler.

Hope this helps.

Jas





here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a treee called life; which grows higher than the soul can home or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)
— e.e. cummings