This is my Halloween thing for this year... its existence is thanks to one of those swords that Micah and Jacob fight with lying in a pile of leaves. Anyway, which version should I use?
This one is the original. It failed miserably, but it might be revivable...
A light unlike the dawn
Golden as the harvest moon and keening like sickly violins
Lanterns hanging in the night
On thickly twisting knotted vines
A glow comes through the blackened moss
Heavying otherwise lightened boughs
A delicate crunch of brown leaves on the ground
That tiny barefoot dancers crack and race away with squeals of glee
A mischievous yellow shines within the dark and
Dusky forest, howling
Autumn wolves beyond the hill
Lament the ghostly shadows’ passing
Within the reel of the faery ring
Still lies the sword of the Autumn King
Once every year it gives its rust to the leaves
And hawthorn branches on the hazel eaves
And of his world fell goblins sing
This one is an Italian sonnet.
Unlike the dawn, a spectral light
Shines through the moss as goblins play
And on brown leaves they race away.
Many are driven by this sight,
Orange and glowing in the night.
The ghostly lanterns by their way
Have turned men’s wanderlust astray
Lost paths unknowing of their plight.
Within the reel of the faery ring—
As told in whisper and in rune—
Still lies the sword of the Autumn King.
Its long-told tale is beckoning
For beneath the light of the harvest moon
The goblins still at twilight sing.
This one was supposed to be an English sonnet, but it's not, because I "accidentally" put two quatrains at the end instead of one couplet..
A light unlike the dawn appears
Through the moss and shadowed leaves.
It whispers to a traveler’s fears
And glows up to the forest eaves.
The wind would howl beyond the trees
And stop the breath of someone there
A traveler who thinks he sees
The light that taunts him with a dare.
In ghostly shadows it departs
He follows it far from his way
It leaves a yearning in his heart
And he can’t help but go astray…
And so no mortal ever found
The elven-folk who tiptoed round
Upon the leaves strewn on the ground
Who took no risks and made no sound.
Within the reel of the faery ring
Still lies the sword of the Autumn King
It’s long told story is beckoning,
For the goblins still at twilight sing.
So far I have one vote for both of the sonnets, leaning toward the last one, and one vote for all three (which is not helpful at all)
This one is the original. It failed miserably, but it might be revivable...
A light unlike the dawn
Golden as the harvest moon and keening like sickly violins
Lanterns hanging in the night
On thickly twisting knotted vines
A glow comes through the blackened moss
Heavying otherwise lightened boughs
A delicate crunch of brown leaves on the ground
That tiny barefoot dancers crack and race away with squeals of glee
A mischievous yellow shines within the dark and
Dusky forest, howling
Autumn wolves beyond the hill
Lament the ghostly shadows’ passing
Within the reel of the faery ring
Still lies the sword of the Autumn King
Once every year it gives its rust to the leaves
And hawthorn branches on the hazel eaves
And of his world fell goblins sing
This one is an Italian sonnet.
Unlike the dawn, a spectral light
Shines through the moss as goblins play
And on brown leaves they race away.
Many are driven by this sight,
Orange and glowing in the night.
The ghostly lanterns by their way
Have turned men’s wanderlust astray
Lost paths unknowing of their plight.
Within the reel of the faery ring—
As told in whisper and in rune—
Still lies the sword of the Autumn King.
Its long-told tale is beckoning
For beneath the light of the harvest moon
The goblins still at twilight sing.
This one was supposed to be an English sonnet, but it's not, because I "accidentally" put two quatrains at the end instead of one couplet..
A light unlike the dawn appears
Through the moss and shadowed leaves.
It whispers to a traveler’s fears
And glows up to the forest eaves.
The wind would howl beyond the trees
And stop the breath of someone there
A traveler who thinks he sees
The light that taunts him with a dare.
In ghostly shadows it departs
He follows it far from his way
It leaves a yearning in his heart
And he can’t help but go astray…
And so no mortal ever found
The elven-folk who tiptoed round
Upon the leaves strewn on the ground
Who took no risks and made no sound.
Within the reel of the faery ring
Still lies the sword of the Autumn King
It’s long told story is beckoning,
For the goblins still at twilight sing.
So far I have one vote for both of the sonnets, leaning toward the last one, and one vote for all three (which is not helpful at all)