O won't thou
see, my love, what's done to me?
See how I have
been treated;
Heart set aside
so harshly.
But o, my love,
hear how I am singing still;
Did thou think I
would not?
I sing, tho'
laughter's ringing is still.
My love for thee
shall remain ever strong --
As Lume's golden
rays --
As the Wood
Thrush's song.
O, long as the
stars continue to rise
Above the sweet
flowers,
I'll be trapped
by thine eyes.
Only for thou,
my love, are my songs true;
The moon's glow
must fade
Before the
beauty of all thou do.
Understand this,
that tho' I did part
I slipped away
in pain
From my broken
heart.
Know that it
shattered my world
To
leave thee my dear, old girl.
VOTING: If
you would like to vote on this or any of the other fan fiction
submissions, email your top three titles to me at aestengl@gmail.com. Voting is for fans of the Goldstone Wood series only.
Ohhhh! That is so beautiful, Ruth! GREAT job!
ReplyDeleteOutstanding job! I loved the old-world cadence and style. Such a loving poem.
ReplyDeleteI love how the speaker and audience is not revealed until the last line!
ReplyDeleteI'm with Hannah...I loved how I was guessing who the speaker of this poem was. Is it Aethelbald? No. Leo? No.
ReplyDelete"...To leave thee my dear, old girl."
EANRIN! :D
What a perfect way of revealing the speaker at the end! The whole poem is so lovely (and of course, anything about Eanrin and Imraldera makes me happy!)
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful!! Wish I could write poetry!!! :) And I echo Hannah, Clara, and Sara! :) I was guessing either Rosie or Leo (because no one's better at breaking hearts than Leo!). Great job!
ReplyDeleteI'm crying again. That was beautiful, Ruth. You captured Eanrin's heart.
ReplyDelete"But o, my love, hear how I am singing still;
Did thou think I would not?
I sing, tho' laughter's ringing is still."
"Only for thou, my love, are my songs true"
Thank you so much everyone I'm so glad you liked it.:)
ReplyDeleteWHOA I just got who the speaker was! That took me a while...
ReplyDeletePoor Eanrin. I can picture him swaggering in to Ruain Hall to sing to Gleamdrene with this poem in his pocket. Poor, mixed-up cat.
ReplyDeleteAwwww so melancholy and sweet! Such a great poem! Eanrin's diction and style were fantastic, and, echoing everyone else, I adored the reveal in the last line. It was fantastic, I loved it! Awesome job!!
ReplyDeleteBlessings!
Melanie