I look upon a hillside green, A cow takes water from a stream,
A fox in play is also seen, upon this hillside emerald green,
Though…
Through my window it all seems, so far away, as in a dream.
A breeze picks up to push the grass, in great long sweeps I see it pass,
The sun is high a molten mass, resembling gold or polished brass,
Yet…
Through my window it all seems, so far away, as in a dream.
And to the stream a shepherd lad, shoulders low and poorly clad,
Made his way, though face was sad, for three small sheep were all he had,
Alas…
Through my window it all seems, so far away, as in a dream.
And from the south a minstrel gay, dressed in scarlet white and grey,
Comes skipping toward the stream to stay, beneath a tree I see him lay,
A merry tune begins to play,
And still…
Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.
Then ore the hill comes charging quick, a band of goblins armor thick,
And in their hands an iron pick, the sons of light they mean to STICK!
But no…
Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.
The shepherd lad a warning cries, before the pick removes his eyes,
The minstrel flees, at least he tries, but goblin chief with massive size,
Outran the man who screaming dies!
Yet still…
Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.
The sheep are taken as a snack, the cow is butchered, carried back,
The fox has fled for all are dead, the stream once clear is running red!
And yes…
Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.
Now as I gaze, all seams so still, nothing moves nor ever will,
For goblins bear the urge to kill, now crimson stains the emerald hill…
-
Author:
Orion (
Offline) - Published: February 14th, 2017 11:37
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is based on true events, though the names of the victims have been withheld at the request of their respective families. As for the goblins, I only know the Chiefs name, Gratchen, which I couldn't find a good rhyme for, so I left it out too. Pleas know that though the Goblins are victorious in this poem, the author is not implying a sympathy with the Damned! In fact, given his personal history, the contrary is more then accurate.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
Offline)
Comments1
WELLCOM ORION ~ The Goblin's Chief his name is GRATCHEN ~ His wickedness no one is MATCHIN ' ~ He's got an itch He's always SCRATCHIN' ~ Just like a Hen whose eggs are HATCHIN' ~ I like rhyme too and if you think hard enough you can rhyme anything even ORANGE ! Now back to your first Poem ! I love the rhyme (and rhythm) and repetition of "Through my window it all seems ~ quite far away as in a dream !" I a poem that is good (and engaging to recite) the "three R's" are very important ! Rhyme ~ Rhythm ~ Repetition. You have written a great POEM ! The content is a bit bloodthirsty with a very sad end. We are warned against HOBGOBLINS in a hymn (by JOHN bUNYAN !) and your poem reinforces the warning. Thanks for sharing ~ more please ~ Yours BRIAN (UK). Please check my poems ~ Thanks B
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