Poetry & Prose

Mace Feibel wrote: Does anyone here write stories, I often feel frustrated because I can't get many people to read mine so it would be great to exchange writing with someone...

(apologies if I am hijacking the thread)

The best way to do this is to get involved with writing communities online: deviantART, FictionPress, LiveJournal, Tumblr...take your pick. Post your stuff, then read other people's pieces and comment. The more you build up your online presence, the more notice you'll get on your own work. It takes time, just keep at it.

Hope that helps!

The legend of the Knight of Thered Crosse

I

Lo I the man,° whose Muse whilome did maske,
As time her taught, in lowly Shepheards weeds,
Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,
For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,
And sing of Knights and Ladies° gentle deeds;
Whose prayses having slept in silence long,
Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds
To blazon broade emongst her learned throng:
Fierce warres and faithfull loves shall moralize my song.

II

Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,°
Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will;
Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
Of Faerie knights° and fairest Tanaquill,°
Whom that most noble Briton Prince° so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,
That I must rue his undeserved wrong:
O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.

III

And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,°
Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart
At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,
That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart,
And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde;
Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,°
In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,
After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.

IV

And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,°
Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,
Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light
Like Phoebus lampe° throughout the world doth shine,
Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne,
And raise my thoughts, too humble and too vile,
To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,°
The argument of mine afflicted stile:°
The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred,° a-while.


Form the first book of the Fairie Queene...

I was looking through some old paperwork from back when I was in the navy and came across a poem written by my sword instructor(also a jedi, and a true friend) that he had asked me to read over and edit for him, the paper still had all my edits.

Whatever happened to the old ways?

Honor, romance, courage, compassion,
Are these just words without action?
Am I the last who charges in on a stallion of white,
Sword drawn to slay evil and make wrong right?

As long as I am here to keep the memory alive
Chivalry will live on and never die.
Perhaps I am a lumbering dinosaur,
Tired, old, with all my muscles sore.

Even though my sword is dull and rusted,
My armor corroded, having lost its luster,
I shall never surrender my blade,
Nor give in to the dishonorable way.

Until my flesh rots to dust and bone,
Until all of my essence is gone,
I will defend the old ways and pacts,
While keeping the code alive and intact.

S.R. Patterson(ctsn, u.s. navy) 05 July 1997