believe
believe
May 03, 2012

Abbots Forge

Came the wind one day
that took my hand,
Pushing me along the sands
and me a lad twelve years no more,
Heading down to Abbots Forge

The workings gone,
the roof caved in,
the sides just bent and rusting tin,
from another age when it was clad,
but me a young and sturdy lad,
I chanced to brave the dark within
and the curse of Abbots Forge.

They say he killed his wife a new,
Old Abbot with his motley crew,
accused her of betrayal too,
A claim posed by her kin,

He chucked her in the molten steel
discarding her denial pleas,
they said her red hairs still to see
on the floor at Abbots Forge

I took a breath
forbade the dread,
and slipped the tin
followed my head ,

a dark and gloomy acid place,
the wind was whispering its distaste,
as the sunlight broke between the slats,
and lit the dust of scrambling rats,
the monsters watched my shaking frame,
I looked and listened for that cursed claim,

But just the wind came answering back,
She’s gone it said
she wont be back,
I left the dark to see the sun
The ruin of Abbots Forge .

I often think now I’m full grown,
when venturing close to Abbots Forge,
I broke the curse,
the childish fad
and made a man from a skittish lad,

down at Abbots forge

About This Poem

Last Few Words: Just a silly little pass time poem I'v done, inspired about a mill I knew when I was young, and a murder charge back in the 50's

Review Request Direction: What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
[This option has been removed]

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: sydney,Australia, AUS

More from this author

Comments

D

Dalton

12 years 12 months ago

A very tuneful piece I could almost hear the plucking of a banjo in the breeze over a murder ballad. I don't think you should worry about it being a silly little poem because its not. I don't think there is such a thing as a bad poem its for the reader really. One mans gold is anothers manure. A dark subject but the wit behind the verses pulled it through. As I say it had a very rustic feel to it that I appreciated.

ThanX for sharing

John

Linda Moses

I like the rhythm of the poem
3rd stanza 2nd line, do mean "motley" crew. 6th stanza, last line does not seem to flow as well as the other lines
You held my interest all the way through. Well written.

Linda

believe

Very helpful Linda....Thanks.....hows that now?.................by the way I have problems with written grammar!

weirdelf

not to be able to read an allegory to the Mad Priest in it. If I try hard I can think of him selling out Australian resources to international concerns, and the murdered redhead certainly put me in mind of Julia, but I was stretching too hard.

It's fine as it is, more than you think it is, I think, really very effective.
Some suggestion-

and me a lad 12 years no more, [twelve, it's almost always better to spell numbers]

and the roof caved in, [lose and]

the sides were clad with rusting tin,
from another age when it was clad,[you know these 2 lines are problematic, the repetition of clad. Not sure how to rework them]

and slipped the tin [?]

the wind was whispering its distaste, [lose its]

You've got a great ear for the music of language, all these suggestions are just tidying up, but I think worth considering.