Post by Autumn on Feb 28, 2006 14:43:19 GMT -6
yeah, although i have no good works all are in progress
need criticisms though so yeah, here's one of my latest ones, and its not 100% finished but here it is:
Horamunds Barrow
Under hills where the faeries haunt,
he laid the wand; buried it deep.
The music began an enchanting song,
and from within fell a feeling of fate.
Horamund sat small on the hill,
a throne of nature as the legends tell.
"Where great heaps lay"
the figure did speak
"will your treasure be, below the hyl,
thirteen nights will reveal your intent"
Thirteen moons did fall,
and the faerie hill did not move.
Not an inch did he feel,
nor a light did he see.
The twelfth hour of the darkest night,
and the figure did appear.
Horamund's ethereal throne;
he sat with a smile.
With a crack and a groan the barrow did shift,
the spirits from deep road wildly within.
Their firey stare felt throughout his bones.
Not a minute did pass before he was back,
the legend complete, a promise fullfilled.
Thirteen years in a moment of time with nothing to gain,
not a grain to his name.
The man once handsome and young now old and frail.
with a grimmace and a curse,
he left the barrow.
A harrowing tale of faeries and false legends.
its based kind of on the folktales of faerie rings, which if you dont know what they are, are rings of mushrooms...the rings that appear over night, you know the ones. well, in these rings, faeries dance and the enchanting music draws in the average human passerby and they are then stuck in the faerie realm dancing with them for what feels like minutes, however the time inside the faerie ring is deceptive and what seems like a short time could really be 7 years or more...
folklore and faerie tales intrest me, this is one of my latest ones, i have some written specifically about the faerie rings. and yes i am a bit wierd
need criticisms though so yeah, here's one of my latest ones, and its not 100% finished but here it is:
Horamunds Barrow
Under hills where the faeries haunt,
he laid the wand; buried it deep.
The music began an enchanting song,
and from within fell a feeling of fate.
Horamund sat small on the hill,
a throne of nature as the legends tell.
"Where great heaps lay"
the figure did speak
"will your treasure be, below the hyl,
thirteen nights will reveal your intent"
Thirteen moons did fall,
and the faerie hill did not move.
Not an inch did he feel,
nor a light did he see.
The twelfth hour of the darkest night,
and the figure did appear.
Horamund's ethereal throne;
he sat with a smile.
With a crack and a groan the barrow did shift,
the spirits from deep road wildly within.
Their firey stare felt throughout his bones.
Not a minute did pass before he was back,
the legend complete, a promise fullfilled.
Thirteen years in a moment of time with nothing to gain,
not a grain to his name.
The man once handsome and young now old and frail.
with a grimmace and a curse,
he left the barrow.
A harrowing tale of faeries and false legends.
its based kind of on the folktales of faerie rings, which if you dont know what they are, are rings of mushrooms...the rings that appear over night, you know the ones. well, in these rings, faeries dance and the enchanting music draws in the average human passerby and they are then stuck in the faerie realm dancing with them for what feels like minutes, however the time inside the faerie ring is deceptive and what seems like a short time could really be 7 years or more...
folklore and faerie tales intrest me, this is one of my latest ones, i have some written specifically about the faerie rings. and yes i am a bit wierd