:: Eversong ::

:: Saturday, October 18, 2003 ::

The Ages of the Eversong (Chris Turner)

Know that in times of Ages Yonder,
Men eschewed their ancient past,
These Prophecies lost to Folly and Squander,
And the Eversong began at last.

First came the Age of Finding,
The children knew their call,
Paths true and binding,
And the Eversong began its downfall.

Then came the Age of Reasons,
Great men argue, fight and scry,
Prophecies changing as the seasons,
And the Eversong began to die.

Next came the Age of Virtue,
Great deeds and tales of yore,
But their vanity began anew,
And the Eversong blossomed nevermore.

After came the Age of Means,
Marvels and wonders of power and control,
With flattery and loving obscene,
And the Eversong started to take its toll.

Soon came the Age of Pride,
Hail the men of gloating and gall,
Slow to praise and quick to chide,
And the Eversong ensnared them all.

Hence came the Age of Wars,
Tried to flee, the men of vanity,
Hatred's pets and Glutton's whores,
And the Eversong punished their inhumanity.

Last came the Age of Emergence,
Time to forgive, repent and rebuild,
Else all will succumb to mighty Vengeance,
And the Eversong will be fulfilled.

When Seven Ages join as one,
No more use, these forgotten Prophecies of aeons past,
Dark clouds herald that the time has come,
And the Eversong will end at last.

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One of the most complex, challenging and engaging pieces I ever wrote for a piece of fantasy work, titled "Eversong". I like this one much more than my previous attempt several months ago. I don't expect most readers to understand it, but read it and see what you think. I hope it at least conjures up some interesting images.
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:: Plod 4:28 PM [+] ::
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One-Eyed Jack, The Pasty Eating Pirate (Chris Turner)

One-Eyed Jack's not a Jolly Jack,
Flogging pasties all day from his run-down pasty shack.
No more Yo-Ho-Ho for this One-Eyed sailor,
Demoted to humble pastry retailer.
No more walking planks and adventures ahoy,
Just landlubbing commuters for this Pasty Potboy.
No more taverns and a pretty wench,
Swapped for Balti pies and their wretched stench.
Who will gather round and hear tales of Cheesy wraps,
When other pirates tell of treasure aboard seaborne deathtraps?
Cutlasses, Parrots, Rum and Peg-Legs,
Over roaring seas and crashing skegs,
All swapped for an Apple and Blackberry tartlet,
And the life of a pasty-eating pirate.

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Surreal! Every day on my way into university, I go to Euston station - and just outside is a "West Cornwall Pasty Company" snack wagon (note: that's NOT pronounced "pay-stie" for my American friends...it's like the a in "last"), selling a range of hot pastry snacks. Their logo, curiously, is a pirate stuffing his face with an enormous pasty, and I wondered what on earth pirates had to do with cheese & ham wraps or toasted sandwiches. I have some random thoughts sometimes! Hope you liked it, all the same.
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:: Plod 3:59 PM [+] ::
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Reflections on the Minstrel (Chris Turner)

It is a sad thing to be a character in a poem,
To lose yourself in a world of fantasy,
Living life on a turn and whim,
And hide in a world of falsity.

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Just a short...reflecting on that Humble Minstrel I wrote of so long ago.
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:: Plod 3:18 PM [+] ::
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