Iron Poet, Round XIII.
Welcome to the latest round of Iron Poet, the game where you give me three words and I give you a poem. This is an adaptation of a standard writer's workshop activity, and I do not claim the original concept. I just claim to enjoy doing it
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Comments 206
Thank you once again for doing this!
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She strung comets in her hair,
And the sighing second-starters
Always said it wasn't fair,
But she laughed to see them staring,
Said her heart was long since gone,
And she danced away uncaring,
Lovely lady of the dawn.
She was quite the constellation,
She was goddess of the bright,
And she treasured each sensation
From the day into the night.
And they say she loved a smithy,
That he balanced all she was,
That when he called she came quickly,
Knowing he would grace her cause.
Now they call her Aphrodite,
Now they say that she was kind,
Now they say that she was flighty,
That she did not use her mind...
But I know she loved Hephaestus,
And I know she understood.
For in love there can be justice,
And my heart knows she was good.
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<3
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Come let me grant you the moon.
Don't ask me when dear, and don't ask me why,
For we stand in the last afternoon,
And the bells of St. Wendy's are ringing like prayers
That we send to the lords of the sky,
And they say that the lily maids wait on the stairs,
Oh my dearest girl, never ask why.
Come let me plant a new rose by your door,
Come let me grow you a tree.
Don't ask me where dear, you're worth so much more
Than the likes and the lilies of me.
And the bells of St. Wendy's are ringing like prayers
To the god of the rock and the tree,
And they say that the lily maids always were fair,
Oh my dearest girl, never leave me.
Come let me dream a new dream for your heart,
Come let me spin you a tale.
Don't ask me what dear, just wait as I start,
And I promise you I will not fail.
And the bells of St. Wendy's are ringing like prayers
That we send to the heart of the tale,
And they say that the lily maids always must care,
Oh my dearest girl, never they'll fail.
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Elegant
Kindness
Style completely up to you.
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North
warmth
Something that rhymes would be lovely. A rhyme scheme of ABAAB would be even cooler :)
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They marched to claim what they deserved,
And the warmth of their fellowship carried them twice,
Through the dark and the cold and the cruel sacrifice
Of so many who fell, unobserved.
The men of the North came in broken brigade,
Came in scout and in soldier and more.
They boasted of plans to be brokered and made,
Of the prices they'd pay and had already paid,
As they marched toward a halcyon shore.
The men of the North never looked back or knew
The women who followed behind
And they never once realized nor had slightest clue
That their hearts had been pierced and their bodies run through
By the armies they'd come here to find.
The men of the North marched in phantom brigade,
And the Valkyries took those who stilled,
And they never once knew what a price they had paid,
What became of the plans they'd so carefully made,
Or how long ago they'd been killed.
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All my love to you. <3
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Chaucerian Roundel please
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How far space goes, or where it ends.
Are we alone, or are there friends
Who wait above, betwixt, below?
How far do Heaven's gifts extend?
I wonder if we'll ever know.
We ought to wander, ought to go,
Should spend our wings and make amends,
Make haste for where the cosmos bends...
I wonder if we'll ever know.
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