#10: Visions of Narnia Poetry Contest

Benisse

Benisse

Perelandrian
Staff member
Royal Guard
O frabjous day! Calooh! callay!
A new poetry contest!!

You are invited to pick any place mentioned in the Chronicles and to capture its ambience, sense and setting in a poem. Submissions will be judged using the following criteria:
faithfulness to the Chronicles - 30 points
creativity - 30 points
imagery - 30 points
style - 10 points

Deadline: May Day 5/1/2012 at 6pm Pacific (daylight savings) time.
Assuming we have enough entrants, Winners will be announced Sunday May 13 at 6 pm.
<< ;) sounds of chortling, and random gyring and gimbling>>
 
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By the sea
Feel the breeze
Sail on little one
Come in beyond
With faith and belief
Aslan will give you
A home of eternal peace.

You are almost there,
Can you hear the songs
your mother used to sing?
Now Reepicheep take my hand
Your journey is complete.
It's time for the body to rest.
Time for the soul to awaken
in peace.
 

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Narnia, Narnia
are you there?
Aslan Aslan
my plea's
I hope that
you can hear

Could it only have
been a year?
We were kings
and queens there

Now we are back, here
Come on Narnia
Take me back
to your sweet lands
And wonderful times
of cheer
Where, oh where
is fair Narnia?

Why must it
feel so distant?
Why can't I
feel that it's
not a myth?
Am I growing
away from it?
I hope not
Narnia is the purest.
 
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How Jill Pole Might Have Felt About The Watchtower Where She, Tirian And Eustace Spent A Night In "The Last Battle":

The buildings at Experiment House were nicely decorated.
We never had the fear of a mouse; they'd been exterminated.
The place, in a material sense, was tidy and efficient,
But foul in the ethereal sense; I know I'll never miss it.

Good classrooms and utilities never comfort bullied children;
What use to have abilities if you never can fulfill them?
Now I'm not with tormentors, but friends, for which there's no regretting;
When doing right, whatever our ends, I can endure the setting.

We have no electricity here, nor modern central heating;
Rich folk would never visit me here, but I don't need their greeting.
Stone walls are grim, but spirits are brave, though menaced by disaster;
I won't be stopped by fear of the grave, when Aslan is my Master.
 

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I finally picked a place on which to write: Felimath, the uninhabited Lone Island. There are so many good places in the CoN; it's hard to narrow it down!

THE HILLS OF FELIMATH

Whips about the trees the wind
On the hills of Felimath
People one would rarely find
Near the hills of Felimath
Shepherds here, and shepherds there
Dot the hills of Felimath
Flocks of white and woolly hair
Graze the hills of Felimath.

South of Galma picturesque,
Rise the hills of Felimath
Doorn’s and Avra’s ever rest
‘Neath the hills of Felimath
Salty is the air that floats
O’er the hills of Felimath
All the time do pass the boats
‘Round the hills of Felimath.

Terebinthia must blush
At the hills of Felimath
Seven Isles are forced to hush
By the hills of Felimath
Clover leaves adorn the ground
Of the hills of Felimath
Beauty no one’s ever found
Like the hills of Felimath.

The idea of a cemetery being on Felimath (Lines 11-12) is a teensy bit of poetic license. Here's how my logic works: Lewis tells us that the Lone Islands belong to Narnia, but doesn't tell us why. I suspect that a battle would have been necessary to win them over, after which the Islanders would need somewhere out of the way and yet convenient to bury their dead. Felimath is perfect.

Mike

Oh, and Benisse, kudos on the Jabberwocky references.
 

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Excellent rhyming! As for your speculation: I had simply supposed that Narnians were the very first mortal intelligent beings of any sort at all to land on those islands. But even if no military battles were needed to secure Narnian ownership of the Lone Islands, there could have been all sorts of natural disasters and hardships that might cause many premature deaths among these pioneers. This, as well as a war, could have prompted the survivors to establish a cemetery island -- especially if Aslan allowed illnesses like typhus to exist in the Narnian world, which could make large numbers of corpses an infection threat to the living.
 
Oooh, I'm liking this! :D I hope to enter, but it all depends on me writing poetry suitable to show other eyes. :p

Sopes, your poem mentions sheep. I approve. :cool:
 
Mike -- how brillig of you to notice ;)
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Thanks to all those who have submitted poems already. I am enjoying your entries immensely! Keep them coming in; multiple submissions are fine...
 
STILL no new entries?? Maybe if we prime the pump....

In the Wood Between the Worlds

A stillness one can walk on;
A greenness one can breathe;
No urgent news to talk on;
No cause to stay or leave.

I feel I could not die here,
Nor could I love, or build;
With nothing new to try here,
Ambition would be stilled.

Not Heaven would I call this,
Nor yet that other spot.
God knows why He made all this,
But I, for one, do not.

Explaining its existence
Might well amuse a fool;
I'd rather cover distance,
Through this enchanted pool.

Congratulations Copperfox! This poem tied for first place with an average of 92 out of 100 possible points from the judges :D
 

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Okay, I don't know if this exactly qualifies. But I just wrote a poem about Dark Island. It is kinda creepy!



An island of evil that fills you with fear
Every soul that knows of this dark place
Remembers never to venture near
As long as he can, to the end of his days.

This is what the island begins to do:
Your head fills with horrible dreams
Of the wrong that's dealt to you
And terribly sinister things.

Many have tried and lost their way
Desperately searching for a way out.
Never to return to the light of day,
Engulfed by this black sea of doubt.

The danger is in Dark Island,
Do not be deceived!
Never let yourself wander there,
Or you just might never leave.​
 
If old poems are not allowed, then ignore this post!


Narnia- A poem​

The land of talking creatures,
A world with stunnung features.
Where dwarves work underground
And trees freely dance around.

A mighty Lion made it strong
With his beautiful creation song.

The centaurs watch the stars at night;
In the air, gryphons take flight.
Giants rumble to and fro
And down the river beavers go.

In the midst of battle,
When Aslan does appear,
His enemies all freeze in fear.
And when he gives his mighty roar,
The evil times shall be no more.

The pleasant dreams,
It always seems,
Are of the things in Narnia!​
 
Aslan's Child_1996 said:
Thanks, Sopespian! I don't really like it a whole lot myself, but I think it's okay! Can I enter a poem that I wrote a while ago, by any chance? Or does it have to be new? I have never entered the old one in anything before!
Click to expand...

Benisse would be the final authority on that, but I'm sure it would be okay.
 
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