Contest#3 - September "Capture a Character" Poems

Yay, a haiku to join the entries :)

I'm really getting excited about this contest! Such variety and thought going into the poems. But wait till you see the prizes amdd97 has been designing! They are amazing :D (!! but of course top secret till after the judging at the beginning of October)
and well worthy of your creative efforts.

Keep the verses flowing!
 
"Lucy--Christmas, 1945"

Lucy, fire-fair, bends low, the altar candles gleaming where
Her gold locks fall; an ancient gleam first born two thousand years ago.

The once-dank stable has grown small, and civilized, and safely sits
In church, where Lucy kneels before Christ's tamed cross, mounted on the wall.

“I never would have thought it, Sir—a Lion laying neatly in
This straw-lined trough—the stable here once held more than the world.”

The words fell from her lips, into the candle-flames that leaped as free
As Fauns in winter, when Alambil blazes, and Dwarves dance anew.

Aslan, will you be walking in the wild woods tonight,
To join the pad of Lion-paws with moon and fire-light?

No, daughter dear, I’m leaving for the snow-strewn eastern sea.
Tonight, where sinks a sailing ship, a child waits for Me.

But dance a dance for Me tonight, and morrow for Me wait,
And I’ll return to you again before the eve grows late.

“Your mass, I think.” Then Lucy rose—a Lion’s roar roamed in her heart—
And left the lighted altar for the Lion’s paw-path in the snows.
 
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Glenburne I like the way you suggest images through your lines and between them. Your word pictures fly off the page to make pictures in my imagination... and made me want to think about them. Thank you!
 
A poem for my good friend, the movie Glozelle.

(I'm still not too happy about Andy Adamson letting him live, and not me. :mad::p)

Greatest leader against the foe Into battle Glozelle did go
Knowing not his cause would fail His body would the woods assail.
He fought not for fame or glory, Nor to see the violence gory
But to win a prize of peace That tranquility may be released.
His king, Miraz, was dead by clever plot ;) So the victory now he sought.
For insurgent uprisings he did not care; Subversive zealots everywhere
Would not deter him from the goal Of saving Telmar and keeping it whole.
Then at last he seized a chance; The enemy's leader, by happenstance
Had fallen, and was vulnerable; Of killing him, Glozelle was capable.
But as he stared into eyes of fear He remembered things of yesteryear.
For Caspian was the rightful king Miraz, a usurper, who deserved nothing.
He relented; he could not commit This regicide; he eschew-ed it.
But before he could drop his weapon, An incomprehensible thing happened.
The roots of a tree, alive and free Took him and bashed him against the scree!
He survived somehow, and was soon healed, To him again someday would soldiers yield.
But the battle was lost; the trees turned the tide Many of his soldiers had suffered and died.
But the victorious side graciously offered A surprising and magnanimous proffer.
He could start a new life, carve new memories Hopes began to assure him of the Lion's story.
At the assembly, after the fray The victorious Aslan made the way.
He knew that he had done the wrong, But the Lion's grace was amazing and strong.
He accepted it first, because knew, Redemption would his life renew.

A bit long and wordy, but hopefully it can do well in the contest!
 
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Glenburne: Your poem in itself is superb; only, at a time apparently _before_ her death and transfiguration, _would_ Lucy have yet had that thought about the stable?


Sopespian: Yes, taking Glozelle as the movie has him, you have fleshed out the portrait of an "honorable enemy," a man loyal to his own side but having to realize that his own side has been wrong. Look again at the 20-line rule; maybe they would let you fudge it by making every two lines into one longer line.
 
The 20 line rule is mainly a guideline so the judges reading the poems won't get too overwhelmed (since they are volunteering I don't want to take advantage of their kindness in serving-- especially since I hope to host many more contests to come! ;)). But Sospesian's stirring tribute to Lord Glozelle will certainly be added to the fray although it stretches the limit; I realize sometimes it simply takes more lines to tell a detailed story.
 
Benisse said:
The 20 line rule is mainly a guideline so the judges reading the poems won't get too overwhelmed (since they are volunteering I don't want to take advantage of their kindness in serving-- especially since I hope to host many more contests to come! ;)). But Sospesian's stirring tribute to Lord Glozelle will certainly be added to the fray although it stretches the limit; I realize sometimes it simply takes more lines to tell a detailed story.
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Oh, I'm sorry! I thought I had read all the rules, but I delayed my writing and I must have forgotten about that. I will try to change it a little bit.
 
Thanks Sopesian,
but if editing doesn't work out to your satisfaction, please don't worry. (Just be sure you've backed up your original version somewhere ;) )
 
amdd97 said:
when will the contest end?
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The official end of this contest is 11:59 pm September 30, 2010 Pacific Daylight Time. Judging starts midnight October 1st, and I'm looking forward to announcing winners at the beginning of July. Can't wait to give out the wonderfully creative avvie prizes ;) !
And for those who have multiple entries nominated, there will be a Poet Laureate Award with a cool design by Gondorgirl!
 
King Lune

The bearded king of Archenland stood, sonless, on the wall
Where, before the day of grayness, of eyes grown dead and dull,
He and his young bride-to-be embraced and freely talked,
Before she drew her milk-white skirt and to the sunrise walked.

His beard laughed low and curly, and his eyes were laughter-lined,
But lightness had fled yesterday, for Tash’s troop designed
To take his land and slaughter him, their will, the cheapest lust—
This land where wife lay silent in the dying garden’s dust.

“My lass is dead and buried—the most fair pass to the East—
My younger son, long traveled to another sovereign's feast—
My older son, a baby stolen at the break of day—
But I, though king of emptiness, will follow to the fray.”

Dust billowed where the southern trees look to the desert lands:
The king girt on his silver sword, a dagger in his hands,
And bellowed “Ready!” to his men, for he remembered well
The warning of the ragged child familiar as himself.

“If it be you—“ he murmured, saddling his steed.
But Tash's cavalry then charged—king’s sword from scabbard freed.
But wait—what was the clatter from the east—a second snare?
And who that ragged child, white, and bouncing on the mare?
 
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Thank you Glenburne for catching so skillfully the torrent of thoughts that must have been running through King Lune's mind the day of the Battle of Anvard :)
 
The Landing of Prince Cor
Or, "The Guardian"

A near-wraith now, I sit
And watch the shore.
Though severed from my king,
He’d ask no more.

Black waves beat on the bow,
And at the stern.
Black waves surround the world—
My funeral urn.

The princeling lies asleep,
As if at home.
I cannot row him back—
We sail alone.

Sleep comes stealing fast,
With death’s dark drum.
I wait a little now
Before end comes.

Rest, child—to the east
My dead heart yearns.
There, on the midnight shore,
A fire burns.
 
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Oh no! People started posting entries since August? I didn't even notice. I read them all, they are pretty good. Gotta put on my bard's hat then. On I go!!:D

EDIT: I am attempting something crazy. A poem in the style of Emily Dickinson!!
 
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The Death of King Caspian X

“My Father! I’ve returned!” Is that my son
Who takes my hand and kneels down at my side?
“It’s Rilian. The spells have been undone.
I’m sorry for the tears you must have cried.”

My son! My son has come! With waning strength
I squeeze his hand and whisper, “Do not fear.
My love for you lasts longer than the length
Of days I spent without my dear son near.”

He lays his head upon my breast and weeps.
I stroke his hair as tears fill my own eyes.
“We’ll meet again. We both know Aslan keeps
His children safe, and His words are not lies.”

He nods. “I love you, Father.” “I love you.”
In moments I’m where all things are made new.
 
It's interesting that you wrote the poem from Caspian X's point of view, when we mainly see Rilian's in TSC.
 
Zella said:
The Death of King Caspian X

“My Father! I’ve returned!” Is that my son
Who takes my hand and kneels down at my side?
“It’s Rilian. The spells have been undone.
I’m sorry for the tears you must have cried.”

My son! My son has come! With waning strength
I squeeze his hand and whisper, “Do not fear.
My love for you lasts longer than the length
Of days I spent without my dear son near.”

He lays his head upon my breast and weeps.
I stroke his hair as tears fill my own eyes.
“We’ll meet again. We both know Aslan keeps
His children safe, and His words are not lies.”

He nods. “I love you, Father.” “I love you.”
In moments I’m where all things are made new.
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this one is my favorite so far
 
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