Poem Battle

This is a poem battle. Poems may be as long as they wish, but they must be your own. First round is for acceptance only.

Thanks for accepting, Con! Here's my poem.

Rainbows

The torrents come crashing over my head
And the music begins to fade,
The water is dark and empty and cold
Where once the mermaid folk played.

The sun is defeated by legions of clouds
And shadows obscure the day,
The castles around me burn to the ground
And the magic slips away.

And I wonder why we must tread these paths
Through deserts of sorrow and pain,
But the sun is seen best through a diamond of tears
And rainbows don't come without rain.

Have fun!

Your poem, I'll grant it is OK,
But there's some things I've got to say.
Your rhyming really is quite bad,
It very nearly makes me sad.
For misnamed and rain just do not go,
Rhymes and time don't work, you know.
Metaphors and competitor don't rhyme at all,
And lastly, nor does walls and crawl.

But I really liked your verse about the walls crumblin' and my pen stumblin'.

Now here's my poem.

Melody of Tears

The way back from the graveyard
was long and cold and dim,
But yet its lonely feeling
didn't seem to bother them.

They both were deep in thought of
times that long had passed,
before their little maiden
Had flown away so fast.

They reached their door and stopped as
If they'd heard a sound,
But in the empty courtyard
There was nobody around.

And then the music started,
Very faint, and very far,
A melody that tinkled like
A twinkle from a star.

Then little feet came running,
running to the garden gate,
And a little voice that once
they knew was saying: "mama wait!"

But then the voices faded,
And the stars began to die,
And their clouded eyes were raining ears,
Of days gone by, of golden years,
When she was still near by.

They stepped over the threshold
But no little girl in white
Was running up to greet them
With a smile of delight.

Their bedroom seemed so silent
Without their baby there.
But oh! They heard a little pattering,
A very little pattering,
Of little tiny dainty feet come running up the stair.

And then their door had opened,
and they heard the footsteps pad
up to their bed,
And then she said,
"Dear mama don't be sad."

But when they tried to see her,
They saw there was nothing there
But a stream of silver moonlight
And a whisper in the air.

Con, for the future, if two words rhyme but you add an "s "at the end of one of them, then they don't rhyme anymore. (Cave, waves...stream, dreams...Sky, eyes...Stars, far.)

Plane tree

We rush and run our days away,
We never pause to see
The glory in a daisy,
And the beauty in a tree.

When I was still a child
With no reason to go fast,
I noticed when the sun set,
And I cried when it was past.

I loved the silver plane tree
With it's simple majesty,
And I loved to sit and read
Under it's leafy canopy.

It was older than our city,
Was a monument of time
It was climbed by many children
Before I ever learned to climb.

But I haven't gone to see it
Since I have no time to spare
And my life is always hurried...
And my life is dull and bare.

But is life a life worth living
if we have no time to see
All the things in life worth seeing,
Like a sunset or a tree?