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Author Topic: A Poem Supposedly About the Moon...  (Read 1733 times)
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Bard Judith
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« on: 07 November 2007, 20:36:02 »

Poets have been rhyming 'moon' with 'June' and 'swoon' for, well, eons, or at least as long as June has been around.   This little bit of doggerel attempts a fresh look at the much-abused rhyme scheme... enjoy - or at least cower in impressed horror.... :)


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ODE TO THE MOON
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THE MOON

In the sky the shining moon
Inspired me to sing a tune
And so I sought from dark to noon
But to her charms I was immune.

Out I sat upon a dune
And thought until I fain would swoon
As mute as any silly goon
And prayed the Muse to grant my boon.

Ah, what strange garnishes festoon
As inspiration starts a'brewin!
One seems as daft as laughing loon
Or clownish, fumbling racoon.

I would I'd soar like full balloon,
Or float like leaf upon lagoon,
As buoyant as a new pontoon,
Alas, tis fading all too soon!

The morning dawned in purple prune,
With violet clouds the sky was strewn.
The clouds grew dark; a grim bassoon
Gave warning of a near monsoon.

The rain it wrecked my new galloon,
And soon became a fair typhoon!
I hied me to a greasy spoon
Where breakfast served up picayune...

And ate like any oil tycoon
My fill of sausage and cardoon
Served up by waiterly baboon
Who'd strayed from neighboring saloon.

Tis true I am no bold Sassoon,
Nor can I write like A. Terhune,
But lest you should my style impugn
Or seek this poet to lampoon,
With freshly-sharpened pike harpoon,
You'll find it most inopportune!
I am no bumbling buffoon,
Or two-dimensional cartoon,
But with the Muses can commune.
Enough of this; I've done, too soon.
I'll bid you, sir, good afternoon!
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"Give me a land of boughs in leaf /  a land of trees that stand; / where trees are fallen there is grief; /  I love no leafless land."   --A.E. Housman
 
Irid alMenie
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« Reply #1 on: 07 November 2007, 20:46:44 »

 lol

Oh, how I wish I were even a little bit more of a poet so I could respond to this in like fashion! Thanks, Judith, I enjoyed reading this (and chuckling over it :P)
« Last Edit: 07 November 2007, 21:13:08 by Irid alMenie » Logged

Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus.
Irid al'Menie
Takór Salenár
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« Reply #2 on: 07 November 2007, 21:06:05 »

LOL, Judy!

Apart that I don'tknow, if the moon here is a "her" or more a "his" (as counterpart to the female sun), I stumble over just one line

Ah, what strange garnishes festoon
As inspiration starts a'brewin!
One seems as daft as laughing loon
Or clownish, fumbling racoon.

I would like to have an additional syllable here :)
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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #3 on: 08 November 2007, 04:42:44 »

lol Now this is what such rhyme sites make out of Judy - or was it the other way round? When I saw the poem I have to admit that the word "loon" for some reason came to my mind, and I would have written another verse or two in this regard, but I see that even "loon" wasn't spared and integrated in this vicious rhyme-attack... And inspiration failed when I tried to think up something from what was left with "platoon", "kite balloon" and "signature tune"... grin

Don't know if the poem qualifies as something Santharian, as there are some words in there which don't really fit and if A. Terhune was of Santharian origin is unconfirmed - but the idea is very funny, maybe we can make something out of this concept. Like a simple drinking song that requires another drinker to add another line with a rhyme and thus continue to tell a story? There might be some opportunity in exploiting that... :D
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Mirmec Rethindor
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« Reply #4 on: 08 November 2007, 13:28:54 »

On wayward path I heard that tune
It sparkled jocously like a rune.
Words floated liltingly beyond the dune
With voice much sweeter than any bruin.

And turned a corner beyond sand astrewn
To see the singer linger as a silent moon.
A glance was all my heart could cocoon
For there stood no mortal: ballyhoo’n.

Twas a sprite some say or ghostly duneduan
With starlight which shone just right a through’n.
Before my senses could rightly attune
The sight glimmered dark and maroon.

A memory no more, it was last June
On a wayward path I heard that tune.
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~~Voice of music's heart wrung from the wood.~~
Bard Judith
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« Reply #5 on: 08 November 2007, 22:55:53 »

(applauds Mirmec and falls over laughing)  :rollin
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"Give me a land of boughs in leaf /  a land of trees that stand; / where trees are fallen there is grief; /  I love no leafless land."   --A.E. Housman
 
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