Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: The Writer’s Skill/Craft (04/22/10)
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TITLE: Fiction Friction in Fairyland | Previous Challenge Entry
By Mona Purvis
04/29/10 -
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Conceived by Edgar Allan Poe.
The Raven. Spoke the 'Nevermore'
With fondness of Lady Lenore.
Not I, but author wrote the diction.
It is after all, his work of fiction.
Young Romeo speaks loud and clear;
He has strong issues with Shakespeare,
Whose morbid thoughts convey the notion
That gave to Juliet the potion.
'Twas he, Shakespeare, who brought affliction.
It is after all, his work of fiction.
'Abuse, it is', cries Robinson Crusoe,
Whose life was fashioned by Devoe.
Twenty-four years without a Friday,
Thrown out at sea so far away!
I charge Devoe this dereliction,
It is after all, his work of fiction.
'I, too, was wronged', barked White Fang.
'I'm not ferocious like in London's harangue.
To breed me a fighter, crafty, cruel
Just is not fair, not true, not cool.'
I refuse to excuse this terrible infliction,
It is after all, his work of fiction.
The Hen laid golden eggs by Aesop
Was rewarded a trip to the butcher shop.
Lion had mouse chew ropes to free him
While author forgot, King Of Beasts, on a whim.
Did Aesop write such words with conviction?
It is after all, his work of fiction.
'What were you thinking?', blurted Jane Eyre.
'Mr. Rochester's wife-alive! Say a prayer!
To Bronte', I question Grace Poole full of gin.
From Thornfield I fled-away from such sin.'
Why tarry when waiting society's eviction?
It is after all, her work of fiction.
Lady Chatterley complained all over town
Of husband crippled from his hips down.
'Why Lawrence's coitus of me to Gamekeeper?
Knowing I sought for love so much deeper.
Lawrence created in me this addiction.'
It is after all, his work of fiction.
'Hear now', speaks Scrooge of Charles Dickens.
My attributes so ugly, my benevolence, slim pickens'.
Why in the first sentence, Marley is dead?
And town filled with paupers, all begging bread?
'Bah Humbug'! He wrote of me with restriction.
It is after all, his work of fiction.
Sherlock Holmes remarked this of Doyle,
'Too many clues-the mystery spoil.'
Watson's never allowed to solve the riddle,
While working with me, he plays second fiddle.
Let Doyle contribute his own prediction.
It is, after all, his work of fiction.
In Fantasy, Fable, and Fabrication
The writers establish every sensation,
Of characters flawed and characters pure,
Of characters rich and characters poor.
No matter the ending, there's no contradiction.
This is after all, my work of fiction.
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I thought some of the rhymes felt a little forced with such a tight rhyming scheme - you may want to use a lighter one next time, or try more slanted rhymes.
In spite of that, however, I thoroughly enjoyed this poem! Great job!