05-06-2011, 12:49 PM
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#1 (permalink)
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Age: 16 | Gender:
Bran Artus Kin's Mood:
Last Online: 06-03-2011 08:00 PM
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Child of the Mist
(I think this is the right section of the forum since this song couldn't really fit in the traditional part as it doesn't really follow any of the defined kinds. Some other peoms I posted should also probably be moved here since before I assumed that all rhyming poetry that wasn't romatic or spiritual goes in the traditional section.)
The moon was high and in a brook an owl gave glance,
She moved in rhythm and with grace the girl was in a trance,
And the pebble sang the song - she danced,
The child of the mists.
The clouds shan’t catch the moon – obscure her light,
The shining sight a beckon bright was not the star nor it,
But 'twas the girl in a garment white,
The child of the mists.
The owl did fly, a shadow by the grand and gloomy bulb up in the sky,
Its big and scornful eyes did see the girl as she moved most happily,
The cloths hath most all fallen down,
Of the child of the mists.
Moonlight shed its stunning light by the shadows through the night,
On the girl that danced towards the river at the sighs she sighed,
The cold she thought was trite,
The child of the mist.
The twilight bath cold and secret she swam she felt the sea,
The lashes of the cold still night – lashes on her body light,
Dashes through the crystal she,
The child of the mist.
The ocean waters have risen higher and in their blanket they embower,
The girl in silence for the hour as she felt the ocean shower,
And the caving of waves her devour,
The child of the mists.
Warm strands of morning softly caress her tender gentle dress,
A tear on her damp white cheek glistens slowly down her lip,
As her eyes sadly leak,
The child of the mist.
And so are stunned the passersby - by her beauty so they sigh,
Her closed eyes still seem a certain dye of a silent morning sky,
In a cover loosely woven she still lies,
The child of the mist.
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