Solihull Sonnet

The Solihull sonnet form was invented by Barry Hopkins, a Silhillian*, writing on Allpoetry as Black Narcissus , and composed as a double sonnet. Which I have shown below.

The sonnet may be written in either iambic pentameter or tetrameter.
A volta is optional,
(Which makes for a easy story telling sonnet.)
but if it occurs shall occur at line 13.
Rhyme Scheme ababababababcc.
(Differs from the Indonesian Sonnet, only by the final couplet.)

Yes, It Has Got Summer’s Day In It, But It’s Not What You Think.

Alas it was a day of bland cliché
where every line was naught but platitude;
my inspiration – ‘ Fifty Shades of Grey ‘
was more like shaking hands with gratitude;
I searched for something bawdy and risqué,
lascivious with fifty shades of lewd,
yet I seemed more engrossed by peach soufflé,
had I become a straight-laced, priggish prude?
Where once my mind obsessed on lingerie
my only contemplation was of food;
downcast I strolled into a strange cafe
to ponder this decorous attitude.
The waitress had come-hither, deep blue eyes,
but I just stared at all the apple pies.

“ What bothers you, this wondrous summer’s day? “
She asked and said “ I’m sorry to intrude.”
I spoke to her of my complete dismay
as on my apple pie I slowly chewed.
The more we talked the more I begged her stay
and sensed a subtle changing to my mood,
it seems we talked the afternoon away
by evening I was such a horny dude.
A man has urges that he must obey
and those cannot be baked or barbecued,
all thought of food was now in disarray
would she be as delicious in the nude?
That night was one of whispering and sighs,
the sort a poet must immortalize.


* Solihull is one of the most prosperous towns in the English Midlands. In November 2013, the uSwitch Quality of Life Index named Solihull the “best place to live” in the United Kingdom.  Residents of Solihull and those born in the town are referred to as Silhillians.  The motto of Solihull is Urbs in Rure (Town in Country).
Pasted from


My example

My Vagabond Youth (Solilhull Sonnet)

I wandered everywhere when I was young,
at first on foot around the countryside,
then later I hitch-hiked or rode among
the hobos who preferred a freight to ride.
Throughout the western states my hat was hung
in restaurants where my chores for food were plied
and in resort campgrounds where songs were sung.
I slept on beaches cleaned up by the tide,
and shared the food that other folks had brung;
the tales I told them kept them satisfied.
I may have spoke at times with fork’ed tongue
embellished tales – I never outright lied.
I later ventured East, but came back West
to settle in the country I liked best.

© Lawrencealot – April 7, 2015

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Solihull Sonnet


Deuces Sonnet

This is an invented sonnet form created by Mary Lou Healy writing on as Mlou.

Stanzaic: The sonnet consists of three quatrains and a closing couplet.
Meter: Iambic Pentameter
Volta: Occuring at L9 or L13, (both rhyme pattern changes)
Rhyme: abba abba baab aa

We considered several names for this sonnet form, and all came up being in some way collectively unsatisfying. Only in my solitude, while attempting to compose my first, did I come up with the name “Deuces”. It’s double meaning as an exclamation of confusion and the number two seems to fit.

Nightfall…A Sonnet by MLou

There is a moment just as daylight fades
when reverent hush covers like a shawl
the tired day, and glints of nature’s shades
are dimmed in waning light of evening’s fall.

Birds who filled the day with bright cascades 
of warbled notes…such beauty in each call
we pause to listen, raptured in their thrall…
in sudden silence, cease their serenades.

A landscape bright in summer’s careless sprawl
of hills and valleys, lakes and forest glades
that were spread out in color-rich brocades,
now muted lies ‘neath night’s dark parasol.

The cloak of sleep creeps down the palisades,
and midnight creatures start their masquerades.

My example

Quantum Cat (Mlou Deuces Sonnet)

Quantum Cat

My cat, a quantum powered feline friend,
is like that Cheshire cat of storied fame.
He disappears, or not to whence he came
With timing upon which I can’t depend.

When reading over something I have penned
he’ll either purr, or mumble “That’s a shame.”
No more than that; no fault he’ll ever name.
But for that night, my writing’s at an end.

Good verse, or poor, he’ll sparkle just the same
and oft times though my knobby legs he’ll wend
while hoping that my verse I might amend.
I shall of course, I want to keep him tame.

That cat’s a she, not he… I now contend
for only they so need a man to mend.

© Lawrencealot – March 16, 2015



Image credit” Bing Images, all rights belong to creator.


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Deuces Sonnet

Relaxed Sonnet

This is a gadget sonnet form invented by Mary Lou Hearly,
aka Mlou on

The Relaxed Sonnet is:
A quatorzain made up of alternating iambic trimeter and iambic dimeter lines
with the final couplet being iambic pentameter
Rhymed: abababcdcdcdee, where the a-rhymes are feminine.

My example

Hold the Iamb Chops (Relaxed Sonnet)

He seldom feels contented
I’d have to say,
when iambs are presented
the normal way.
the sing-song seems demented
-a sound’s cliché!
He’s published. He’s acclaimed,
he understands
that meter must be tamed
and so he plans
to truncate unashamed
per his demands.

That doesn’t mean that you and I must fear
the lovely lilt the common man might hear.

© Lawrencealot – October 26, 2014

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Relaxed Sonnet

Skeeter Sonnet

 Skeeter Sonnet.
A gadget sonnet form created by Barry Hopkins, writing on Allpoetry as Black_Narcissus, and given the name Skeeter Sonnet by Lawrencealot.

It is a quatrazain.
It is metrical consisting two metric feet a dactyl followed by a trochee.
All even lines except the last, are catalectic.
It is rhymed like an Shakespearean Sonnet
Rhyme pattern: ababcdcdefefgg

This is his first such poem.

A Stunted Sonnet. ( Or Shakespeare Sawn In Half – Nearly )

Slightly confusing
naming new forms
some say abusing
orthodox norms,
new innovations
so avant-garde
poet’s creations
cutting-edge bard,
sonnet conversion
stunted not long
is it perversion
shamefully wrong?
Couplet conclusion
adding confusion.

© Black_Narcissus – October 2014

My example

Named: (Skeeter Sonnet)

It’s what you name it
I reckon, sir.
If you should claim it
then it’s your cur.
Well known’s its meter
rhyme pattern too,
small like a skeeter
as used by you.
Not as expected
Ii doesn’t hurt,
even connected
to a pervert.
Thus I’m concluding
we’ll be colluding.

© Lawrencealot – October 14, 2014

I propose that this bimeter sonnet be named the Skeeter Sonnet.

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Skeeter Sonnet

Folded Sonnet

This is a gadget sonnet form invented by Barry Hopkins, aka Black_Narcissus of

These are the specifications I am sure of for the Folded Sonnet:
It is a 12 line sonnet. (Providing a form that now gives us a sonnet of every line-length between 10 and 17)
Rhyme pattern: aabbccddeeff
Metric: Written in iambic heptameter.
Volta required at L9.

I would suggest that any rhyme scheme would be acceptable.

My example

A Black Narcissus Fantasy (Folded Sonnet)

Jejunity’s absent from every verse that poet pens
Immunity from boredom is a treat his work portends.
Self-deprecating humor laced with frequent badinage
O’er shadows grand intelligence he tries to camouflage.
He teaches while he plays with words, although that’s not his aim;
I’m moved to emulate his style and jump into the game.
His rhymes are often fresh and new with phrases seldom seen.
If I could visit England, I’d see him before the Queen.
But though I write in rooms that simply don’t seem to exist
I’m never there when he is- so my searching will persist.
I’ll know that I’ve achieved one goal when I read someone’s quote:
“That verse I saw by Larry looks like something Barry wrote.”

© Lawrencealot -July 26, 2014


Visual Template

Folded Sonnet

Bush Ballad Meter Sonnet

In the flavor of the “Man From Snowy River” by Andrew Barton Paterson I have set forth the following specifications for what I am calling the “Bush Ballad Meter Sonnet”.

Creator: Lawrence Eberhart, aka on Allpoetry as Lawrencealot.
Syllabic: L1 through L2 alternate 15 and 11 syllable. Lines 13 and 14 each have 15 syllables.
Rhyme pattern: ababcdcdefefgg
Metric: Primarily anapestic and iambic meter.
I guess technically all lines begin with an anapest,
the first 6 long lines then have 2 tertius paeons and 2 iambs’
the short lines have four iambs
the last two have 1 tertius paeon and 4 iambs
but the visual template is easier to understand.

Anapestic foot [da da DUM]
Iambic foot [da DUM]
Tertius paeon foot [ da da da DUM]

My example poem

Dominion (Bush Ballad Meter Sonnet)

When a chieftain comes to power, it’s because he’s acted well
in providing for the welfare of the tribe.
When a politician rises with smooth rhetoric to sell
what’s not really his to give, then it’s a bribe.
When a clique of any dogma with agenda driven goals
should encounter opposition to its plan,
that’s when greed and self-advancement will supplant more lofty roles,
and the powerful will kill because they can.

When a species such as humans has no predators to fear
yet they have the wherewithal to calculate,
it’s perhaps the plan of Gaia (causing some to disappear)
to allow cupidity to turn to hate.
For it’s certain through the ages, those in power decimate;
we can hope for what it’s worth that man awakes before too late.

© Lawrencealot – June 21, 2014
Visual Template

Bush Ballad Meter Sonnet

Lazy Day Sonnet

This sonnet form was created by Rebecca Kerr, aka Rebecca-K on
It’s defining characteristic is the
Rhyme pattern:  aabbccdddeeeff
It should be written in iambic pentameter with volta at line 7 or later.
 Example Poem
Listen Up     (Lazy Day Sonnet)
The bishop postulates his weekly view.
If I attend I listen weakly too.
“Begetting best begins when one is wed,
so wait ’til then to take him to your bed.”
The teachers when they must presume to speak,
and parents too, set forth the same critique.
I hear the words yet see our public men
succumb to power’s perks now and again,
to bed a beau- yes, even priests. Amen!
Thus seems they set for us a stale canard
the powerful assume they can discard,
Rebutting or ignoring is not hard.
Their dogma need not now define my role.
It seems that pregnant chicks go on the dole!
© Lawrencealot – April 22, 2014
Visual Template

Sonnet Anapest

Sonnet Anapest is a sonnet form created by Lawrence Eberhart, aka Lawrencealot on AP.  It will be listed here as a  gadget sonnet as it lies outside the parameters of the standard sonnet

It is a quatorzain written the rhyme pattern of an English Sonnet.
The defining character is that lines alternate between anapestic tetrameter and anapestic trimeter with feminine rhyme.
Example Poem
Puddles       (Sonnet Anapest)
“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” ~Vivian Greene

When the rainstorm brought puddles and pools to our street
and most huddled in side, warm and wary,
the prospect of some splashing invited my feet
and so nothing about it was scary.
I was bundled in rain gear, galoshes and hat
and was thrilled with the wetness and splashing
and the water went flying when my boots went splat!
Then the lightning and thunder came crashing.
When my mom called me in I complied, you can bet
(in a hurry) for fright was controlling.
But my mommy had cookies and cocoa all set
so the rainy day’s joys kept on rolling.
I was trained to be happy and happy I’ve stayed.
Just arrange the board pieces the fates have displayed.
© Lawrencalot – April 4, 2014
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Jonathon Livingston Seagull – A Poem (A Heroic Crown of Sonnets)

1. The Breakfast Flock
To fly was so much more than flapping wings
and while the Breakfast Flock besieged the fleet
that chummed the water, Jonathon had things
to do ‘sides squawk and dodge and fight to eat.
The thousand gulls began another day,
their raucous screeching testimony to
their group-think need to aggregate that way,
for they could see no other thing to do.
Yet Jonathon would so much rather fly.
He lived to fly while others flew to eat.
He flew a hundred feet into the sky
and practiced learning a new turning feat.
A disgrace others would not take so well,
so tight a curve he tried, he stalled and fell.

2. Level Flight
So tight a curve he tried, he stalled and fell.
But unashamed, (though seagulls never stall),
he stretched his wings and tried again- as well
you note: he was not common after all.
He found that when less than a half wingspan
above the water he could float on air,
effortlessly, a most efficient plan
that let him glide most far without a care.
But others cared! His dad and mother asked”
“Why Jon, can’t you be like all of the rest
and leave low flying to the birds so tasked-
the pelicans who surely do that best?”
“Be like others, avoid the social stings
Conform,” they said, “try doing natural things.”

3. Being Obedient
“Conform,” they said, try doing natural things.
Jon really tried for several days that week.
He tried to wear his mother’s apron strings.
he screeched and dove and fought with wing and beak.
He flocked around the piers and fishing boats
and dove for scraps of fish and tossed out bread.
He chaffed against the ennui that promotes.
So pointless- he could learn to fly instead.
Deliberately he then dropped his fish,
a hungry old gull chasing him was pleased.
To learn to fly was Jonathon’s real wish.
and now the opportunity was seized.
I’ll not conform to nonsense they compel-
Nope! I’m going to fly and soon excel

4. Fixed Wing Flight
Nope! I’m going to fly and soon excel.
Alone again way out to sea, his need
to learn was something not to quench or quell
so practice was the plan, this week’s goal: speed.
He learned why gulls don’t make such speedy dives;
at seventy, the wings become unstable
on the upstroke. No matter how one strives,
that darn gull upstroke one cannot enable.
So Jon decided trying something man
had use, a fixed-wing for his fast descent.
He flapped ’til fifty MPH and then
held his wings still and only slightly bent.
From two thousand feet, plunging without lulls
he set the world recorded speed for gulls.

5. Speed Record
He set the world recorded speed for gulls.
exceeding ninety MPH- then crashed.
Unconscious still dreamed of lofty goals
and sought to solve that problem, unabashed.
He woke with wings like ragged bars of lead
but weight of failure was still even worse.
He wished he’d simply sink and end up dead,
for failures seemed his own repeated curse.
But sinking low he heard a voice within
“I’m limited by nature, am I not?
If meant for speed I’d have wings short and thin-
like falcons and would not have to be taught. “
He’d join the flock, and once again act right,
by accident he flew toward home at night.

6. Epiphany
By accident he flew toward home at night;
“It’s dark!”, an inner voice intoned, get down!-
seagulls you know, will never find that right.”
If you were meant to fly at night you clown,
an owls eyes you’d have – also charts for brains
and the short wings of falcons… short wings- wait.”
The answer pushed a rushing through his veins,
short wings has been the missing needed trait.
So, now he rose two thousand feet above-
“I’ll fold my wings and fly on tips alone.”
No thought of death- pursuing what he loved
he “knew” that he’d just found his new speed zone.
Re-born, rejoiced, this single seagull mulls..
he’d found the inspiration Flock-thought dulls.

7.  200 MPH
He’d found the inspiration Flock-thought dulls.
He dove, his wings now clamped against his side
it was as if some laws he would annul.
At such amazing speed it was a ride.
The faintest twitch of wingtips promptly eased
him from his dive, and shot him over waves-
a cannonball of grey- and he was pleased;
His vows abandoned for the life he craves.
Now practice was required and sun- up found
him up five thousand feet above the fleet
about to dive again and to astound.
And that he did in manner not so neat.
He’d learned to speed but hadn’t planned it right;
he just missed hitting flock of gulls in flight.

8. Banished
He just missed hitting flock of gulls in flight.
but learned that day to turn at speed, the loop,
the roll, the pinwheel, too to his delight!
The Council came together as a group
and shamed him for his acts! He was cast out.
He spent the rest of his days all alone
but that was not what sorrow was about,
it was their missing what they might have known.
The flock refused the glory learning brought.
They would keep scrabbling after chopped fish heads
while delicious fresh fish were easily caught
by streamlined dives beneath the waves instead.
Then Jon saw how good life could really be,
the flock then cast him out and set him free.

9. Years later
The flock then cast him out and set him free.
Two gulls as pure as starlight flew beside
him- friendly, smiling; their wings couldn’t be
an inch from his wingtips on either side.
He tested them. One knot above stall speed,
then dives slow rolls and loops-they matched each move.
They passed completely every test indeed
“We’re brothers came their words so strong and smooth.
We’ve come to take you home for you have learned.
One school is finished, yet another waits.”
At last he said “I’m ready”, and up he turned
with gulls he knew were heaven’s delegates.
He’d spend his life at mental freedom’s helm;
his freedom took him to a higher realm

10. The Elder
His freedom took him to a higher realm.
The same old Jonathon looked through his eyes,
but form had changed enough to overwhelm.
Seagulls here all seemed satisfied and wise.
“Chiang…”, (said to one soon to leave this world),
this isn’t heaven after all is it?”
“Your wings are not the only part unfurled,
my son, you’re learning and will never quit.
And heaven’s not a time or place at all;
it’s being perfect- barriers all surpassed!
You’ll find perfection, if such speed’s your call,
when going any takes no time. That’s fast.
Keep learning son, and you’ll begin to see
where nothing lays beyond reality.”

11.  An Instructor
Where nothing lays beyond reality
Jon let his love become his life’s new goal.
He found some others outcast such as he,
and assumed what was meant to be his role.
When Fletcher Lynn Seagull became his charge,
outcast because his dream was just to fly,
Jon felt an obligation to discharge,
Jon taught him how- and more, he taught him why.
For now, ’twas not for him alone he strove,
but for all blinded by their seagull-hood.
He sought to share life’s very treasure trove,
to teach the Flock their blindness was not good.
The mission seemed to some to overwhelm
one needed only guidance at the helm.

12. Return to Flock
One needed only guidance at the helm.
and Jonathon was now the one to teach.
“Your mind can go to any place or realm;
there is no speed that lies beyond your reach.”
To his eight students he announced, “It’s now
that we return to Flock.” Some anguish rose
among his group. “By law we’re outcasts, how
can we return?” Jon told them how it goes.”
“We’re not now flock, and where we wish we go.”
and thus they flew, a tight formation group,
they were perhaps the very first airshow!
The Flock’s unblinking eyes all watched the troop.
Apart but near the students stretched their wings,
within Flock’s view Jon taught his crew new things.

13.  Overcoming the Physical
Within Flock’s view Jon taught his crew new things.
One day with dangling wing a gull approached
“I want to fly, but flying takes two wings…”
“You want to fly, and so you will Jon coached.
And when he did, he screamed, “Look at me fly!”
A thousand gulls approached the training class
now eager to be shown just how and why.
Jon taught that ritual habits must not last.
For laws restricting freedom are contrived;
they served up order only at great cost,
and while the Flock continued to survive
the thrill of living freely has been lost.
When soul is free that’s when a gull’s heart sings;
To fly was so much more than flapping wings

14.  Passing the Torch
To fly was so much more than flapping wings
Your body’s just a picture in your mind,
Your spirit’s where reality now clings.
You’re anywhere you want to be, you’ll find.
When Jonathon left- thought himself away,
a student stepped into the teacher role.
And Fletcher knew that he too’d learn some day
and teleport to Jon on beach or shoal.
For while we’re here and now it’s also true
that now is also everywhere right now
and quantum physics makes up part of you
through multi-universes anyhow.
Enlightenment won’t come as soon for some
but living free will someday let it come.

To fly was so much more than flapping wings
So tight a curve he tried, he stalled and fell.
Conform they said, try doing natural things.
Nope! I’m going to fly and soon excel.
He set the world recorded speed for gulls.
By accident he flew toward home at night;
he found the inspiration Flock-thought dulls.
He just missed hitting flock of gulls in flight.
The flock then cast him out and set him free.
His freedom took him to a higher realm
where nothing lays beyond reality,
one needed only guidance at the helm.
Within Flock’s view Jon taught his crew new things;
to fly was so much more than flapping wings

© Lawrencealot – March 12, 2014

Author’s Notes:

Jonathan Livingston Seagull, written by Richard Bach, 
is a fable in novella form about a seagull learning about life
and flight, and a homily about self-perfection. 
It was first published in 1970 as “Jonathan Livingston Seagull — a story.”

Published March 12, 2014 on by Lawrence Eberhart.

Heroic Crown Of Sonnets: The Warrior’s Tale

She was a warrior with mighty sword,
A huntsman’s daughter, now she lived alone
Her parents dead, the lodge beside a forde
Was solely hers, the place that she called home.
The cottage bordered mighty forest trees
Whose trunks stood strong to guard the magic there,
For fairy kingdom stood under the leaves
Of sacred living tree, so gold and fair.
For many years the fairies had known bliss
Until a threat foretold became stark fact,
And so they came in search of mighty Miss
In hopes that they could make a fairy pact.
They came to her, resplendent on their wings,
They asked that she be champion for their king.

They asked that she be champion for their king,
Defend the realm and hidden golden boughs
Of tree that held all magic in its rings,
The key to all that happy life allowed.
They told her of the prophecy forseen
Of evil come to drain the forest life,
Of blackened leaves within the lofty green
Of hardship come, of famine and of strife.
She didn’t hesitate to heed their call
And strapping sword across her broadened back
Strode off with them into the forest sprawl,
Winding their way along the piney track.
Into the mists, that peace might be restored
She went with them to meet the fairy lord.

She went with them to meet the fairy lord
A king with greying beard, upon his throne,
At his right hand the queen they all adored
And to his left, the son he called his own.
The prince’s eyes were like the bluest sky
The maiden felt his call with single glance,
An instant flare of love bound them with sighs
And deep abiding ties of true romance.
He took her then to see the magic tree
Within a garden, beautiful it glowed
And underneath its spreading golden leaves
They kissed and sealed their fates, as true love flowed.
The warrior at heart, now felt the cling,
There prince and maiden joined by passion’s sting.

There prince and maiden joined by passion’s sting
But time was not with them, the threat was clear,
And barely with a chance for love to sing
The army of the trolls drew ever near.
The fairies, prince and champion marched to war
With armor bright and tireless winged steeds,
And pushed back at the army as they bore
Down on the forest home with evil needs.
And then from out their ranks came wicked mage
Who sought to drive the fairies from their lands,
And capture all the magic in bondage
So he could then fulfill his dreadful plans.
He drew his darkness, bold and with intent,
The mage would see all fairies in torment.

The mage would see all fairies in torment
Or so he wished, he thought he could not fail
His magic was so strong, the ground was rent
And cracks split earth along the grassy vale.
But warrior, she felt her anger spread
She cried for justice for the fairy ground,
And raising sword so high above her head
She rallied fairy troupes to gather round.
A magic came right forth, with silver light
The steel within her hands began to glow
She was surprised, but recognized the might
Of good that from the blade began to flow.
Embracing right, she stood upon the field,
The maiden had a magic sword to wield.

The maiden had a magic sword to wield
A mighty talisman to lead the fight,
And all the trolls around her had to yield
Or die upon her blade of silver light.
Across the bloodied grass she made her way
There in the centre faced the evil man,
He gathered in his dark to make her pay,
Dark clashed with light, and thwarted blackest plan.
A blinding flash illuminated all
A cry screamed out and then a quiet hush,
And from it strode the warrior, still tall
The fairies gathered round her in a rush.
The evil gone, the darkness had been spent,
Upon the field, the mage lay cold and bent.

Upon the field, the mage lay cold and bent,
Their champion had saved the land they loved,
The fairies so rejoiced and then they sent
A message to the king, with snow white dove.
The prince rode closely by her side with pride
And love swelled further in his fairy chest,
And he intended, at end of their ride
To ask her for her hand, and felt so blessed.
They came with triumph to the fairy court
And prince confessed his intent to his king,
But all his want it seemed was all for naught,
His royal highness refused his blessing.
They had their victory on the killing field,
But fairy king, for love, he would not yield.

But fairy king, for love, he would not yield
And prince was devastated by decree
His heart was to the maiden ever sealed
And without love he never would be free.
Then in the west, a greater evil grew
The mage’s brother had heard of his death,
And gathering an army quickly flew
To get revenge, even with dying breath.
They came so fast, the ground hummed with their tread
But fairy kingdom did not heed the signs
Their guard let down, they did not feel the dread
As they feasted and drank the summer wines.
But prince and maiden did not join the ball
They had found love, then seemed to lose it all.

They had found love, then seemed to lose it all
When king had said she could not be his bride,
So warrior returned home to the fall
Of passion’s hurts, and all alone she cried.
She grasped the mighty sword within her hands
And there on gleaming blade she saw the lines,
Within a twisting scrawl and lovely bands
Writ tale of once princess within the shine.
The tale was hers, she read with widened eyes
And knew the truth of power from her blade,
And saw that her upbringing was a guise,
Protection from a royal court betrayed.
She rose as princess from her lowly bed
She could not get the prince out of her head.

She could not get the prince out of her head
And he still pined, the loss made him a shell,
They both could feel the air, impending dread
Clung to the land, the magic wasn’t well.
The brother mage had gained the forest edge
And crept into the kingdom in the dark
And coming to the garden, kept his pledge
Touching his magic to the sacred bark.
The fairy kingdom heard the horrid cry
The sacred tree it wept and branches browned,
And all shook out their wings and took to sky
In defense of the fairy kingdom’s crown.
There was a deadly panic, lethal pall,
They had to save the kingdom, lest it fall

They had to save the kingdom, lest it fall
For without magic soon the land would die
But evil brother called his troops, they all
Swarmed over defenses with lofty cry.
The leaves upon the tree began to wilt
And lost their golden colour as they fell,
The land began to sicken as the gilt
Faded from tree, and evil came to dwell.
The fairies knew they needed champion
To help save them from their impending doom
And so they sent a herald to maiden
To implore her to help the sickened bloom.
They knew with certainty of horrid dread
She was the only one could stop the spread.

She was the only one could stop the spread,
She grabbed her mighty sword and ran to aid
Her anger swift, her vision clouded red
The magic thrummed within the steely blade.
She joined the fight, side by side with her prince
And cleaved the bodies of the troll army,
The clang of steel was rhythm to evince
The rage with which she faced the enemy.
The evil brother saw her power then
And saw to strike her at the very heart,
So gathering the magic of the glen
He aimed to tear the very world apart.
And there beneath the dying sacred tree
Brother brought prince with magic to his knees.

Brother brought prince with magic to his knees,
The maiden’s heart was torn there into shreds
And everything before her seemed to freeze
As prince fell down and on the ground he bled.
Her sword rose up, it flashed with blinding light
And smote the mage with all its raging charge,
Just as his brother had fell to her might
He died right there, a life no longer large.
She rushed to side of her beautiful man
And held him close and looked into blue eyes
He told her then how much he loved, the span
And while she held him in her arms he died.
With sweet prince gone, upon the floating breeze,
She knew right then a pain that pierced and seized.

She knew right then a pain that pierced and seized
And watched the blight spread from the dying tree
She saw that love was lost, would not be eased
But swore that princely death would set them free.
She drew her blade within his blood and joined
His soul once more to hers for final task,
And plunging steel into the ground conjoined
Her magic with his fairy blood at last.
The blood flowed strong and fed the sacred plant
The blush returned to leaves, the golden hue
And as the sun rose, beams in yellow slant
Brought warmth and life, the tree had been renewed.
The fairy kingdom had been saved, but cost
A prince his life, a love forever lost.

She was a warrior with mighty sword
They asked that she be champion for their king
She went with them to meet the fairy lord
There prince and maiden joined by passion’s sting.
The mage would see all fairies in torment
The maiden had a magic sword to wield,
Upon the field, the mage laid cold and bent,
But fairy king, for love, he would not yield.
They had found love, then seemed to lose it all,
She could not get the prince out of her head,
They had to save the kingdom, lest it fall
She was the only one could stop the spread.
Brother brought prince with magic to his knees
She knew right then a pain that pierced and seized.

Created March 2014 by Virginia Archer on