"Inscription Rock, Lake Erie," by Seth Eastman, 1850.‘On the Shores of Lake Erie’ by G. M. H. Thompson The Society September 11, 2016 Beauty, Poetry 2 Comments On the shores of Lake Erie, most weak & most weary, a soldier sat sunning, returned from the wars, And though it were bleary, he still could see clearly when a bonny lass found him— her beauty shone pure: “Though Darlin’, I’m dying, your vision is blinding, and I can’t stop from sighing as I gaze at you, “So please take these roses I plucked in old Flanders while the gas and explosions made mincemeat of us;— “They’re wilted & muddy and some, slightly bloody, but they’re all I can offer as I die from my wounds”— She spoke not but kissed him with ebony wisdom embraced him & graced him with slumber divine, For she was an angel come down to lead his soul to the high halls of Heaven and wonders of Time. G. M. H. Thompson’s publication credits: Scifaikuest, Shemom, Bear Creek Haiku, Haikuist, Anti-Heroin Chic (formerly Heroin Chic), Old Red Kimono, Road Not Taken: The Journal of Formal Poetry. Let Us Go, a poem by G. M. H. Thompson, won the Winter 2016 Heart & Mind Zine Judge’s Choice award in the category of poetry. Four of G. M. H. Thompson’s as-yet-unpublished poems will appear in the forthcoming 2016 anthology of Scurfpea Publishing. NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 2 Responses Gleb Zavlanov September 18, 2016 I really enjoyed the melodious meter of the poem. Could you tell me what the foot is called? I believe Trochee but I could be mistaken. The greatest poetry is often the simplest and most compact. Well done! Reply G. M. H. Thompson September 18, 2016 Thank you– your words are very kind. It’s actually mostly in amphibrachs, which is a three-syllable foot that goes unstressed-stressed-unstressed, but the fourth line of most of the stanzas is a amphibrach followed by an iamb. Also, the third line often goes unstressed-unstressed-stressed-unstressed-unstressed-stressed-unstressed. Another way to look at it would be to say that the poem is accentual with two beats per line (in fact, that’s how I looked at it until I read a book that explained to me what an amphibrach was about two months ago (that book was ‘Measure for Measure: An Anthology of Poetic Meters’ by Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets, a surprisingly enlightening anthology of formal poetics)). The metrics are not perfect, but I constructed the poem based on a simple melody (a method I highly recommend, but it can be difficult coming up with a melody, I know) (it is somewhat difficult in places to pick out the metrics without knowing the melody) and it works well as a song, so I kept the imperfections anyway. Here is the complete metrical scheme if it interests you: uu/uu/u u/uu/u u/uu/u u/uu/ u/uu/u u/uu/u uu/uu/u u/uu/ u/uu/u u/uu/u uu/uu/u u/uu/ u/uu/u u/uu/u uu/uu/u u/uu/ u/uu/u u/uu/u uu/uu/u uu/uu/ u/uu/u u/uu/u u/uu/u u/uu/ u/uu/u u/u/u/ uu//u/u u/uu/ Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.