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New piece: I met a bard upon a moonstruck night
A few days ago, I asked for requests for new bardic pieces people wanted me to write, mostly as a way of gaining inspiration to actually put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case might be). The first one that caught my muse was the one by
emerlion, "write a sonnet about an experience you had at Pennsic."
Sad to say, the experience that stood out most in my mind was being snubbed by a certain someone on the Tuesday of War Week. I had hoped to be going back to his tent, and he wound up going back with someone else. I was, shall we say, miffed. But that was the memory my muse focused on, so here's the sonnet about it:
I met a bard upon a moonstruck night,
Beside the fire listened to his song,
His eyes shone bright as diamonds in the light,
His voice resounded rich, and deep, and strong.
Our eyes crossed paths before the flick'ring glow,
He placed a gentle hand upon my knee.
His cloak about my shoulders seemed to show
That shortly to his tent we both would flee.
He rose, he said but for the briefest time,
It was an hour more 'till he returned,
And on his arm I saw a maiden fine!
Her lips received his kiss while me he spurned.
But in this choice 'tis he who missed the mark,
For I am fire; she the merest spark.
By Katherine Ashewode,
based on actual events of Pennsic XXXV (2006)
Constructive criticism and other comments are welcome.
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Sad to say, the experience that stood out most in my mind was being snubbed by a certain someone on the Tuesday of War Week. I had hoped to be going back to his tent, and he wound up going back with someone else. I was, shall we say, miffed. But that was the memory my muse focused on, so here's the sonnet about it:
I met a bard upon a moonstruck night,
Beside the fire listened to his song,
His eyes shone bright as diamonds in the light,
His voice resounded rich, and deep, and strong.
Our eyes crossed paths before the flick'ring glow,
He placed a gentle hand upon my knee.
His cloak about my shoulders seemed to show
That shortly to his tent we both would flee.
He rose, he said but for the briefest time,
It was an hour more 'till he returned,
And on his arm I saw a maiden fine!
Her lips received his kiss while me he spurned.
But in this choice 'tis he who missed the mark,
For I am fire; she the merest spark.
By Katherine Ashewode,
based on actual events of Pennsic XXXV (2006)
Constructive criticism and other comments are welcome.
no subject
For the record, a sonnet is a very specific type of poem. It's 14 lines long, all in iambic pentameter, which means lines sound like this: da-DUM, da-DUM, da-DUM, da-DUM, da-DUM. The rhyme scheme in a Shakespearean sonnet (which is what I did here) is ABAB, CDCD, EFEF, GG.
If any of this is confusing and you want to learn more, find me at practice and I'll explain it better.
This is disturbing- but it works...
I try to see if it will scan to 'Gillagan's Island' or 'The Yellow Rose of Texas'. (Which admittedly gets challenging to get it to any other tune later.)
Random poetry fun-bit:
Emily Dickensen wrote almost exclusively in Iambic rythems but usually with lines of 8 syllables "Because I could not stop for death" & 6 syllabes "Death kindly stopped for me". As a result- nearly all her poems can be sung to one of those two tunes. Shakespeare usually won't because of the Pentameter (10 syllable lines).
:D
Re: This is disturbing- but it works...