Wreathed poetry is simply a natural blending of English poetry with the Celtic Welsh. Its creator George Herbert
was born into a wealthy artistic family in Wales and later was educated in Trinity College, Cambridge and was unpublished until
after his death. It is believed that his poem A Wreath was inspired by the Welsh form Englyn cryrch which uses an internal
rhyme scheme with an external one and gives a couplet scheme of:
Later poets realised that some Irish forms led with an internal form and from that was born Un-wreathed poetry, simply the reverse of Wreathed in that the first line starts with an internal rhyme with the second external and so on, there being no fifth line there is no external rhyme, giving it a basic rhyme scheme of:
Wreathed and Un-wreathed Octave Challenge Replies
I thank You for the blessings that I get
And yet fickle human, I still complain
And strain against Your Holy Will; I fret:
The debt I owe you I ignore again
And feign forgetfulness, but not for long;
Too strong the hold You have on me and I
Soon fly back to Your Arms where I belong
A song of praise for You, my best Ally.
Though winds assail me I still stand my ground,
The sound they make will not make me afraid;
They serenade me even as they pound
And surround me. I am no timid maid.
Each blade of grass, the blooms, pay them respect,
Near genuflect as they go rushing by…
Not I, I repel their cold and protect
Myself, bedecked in shawl - Boreas fie!
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I hear her voice, she's calling me again,
in raining tears, my name on her soft voice,
a whispered choice that echoes falling rain,
I'm lost to love's desire, there is no choice!
In this a dream of passion I am lost
Our hearts are crossed by love; in madness dream,
as baby screams her pleasure; our paths are crossed
once more alone as dawn awakes; I scream.
The ashen clouds that fall at witching hour
to cross the sleepless eyes that watch the moon
engulf the moon in shrouds of hazy dreams.
A dreamy state where fairies come to play,
as pipers play a dancing midnight tune,
a fortune teller waits for my open hand.
My destiny is creeping far a way,
the way to float beside the fluffy clouds.
My Sweet Rose
In early morning sun I wander here
it's here amid my garden's genteel flush
a crimson flush of poppies whisper hush,
the hushing breeze that brings your love so near.
So near I feel your presence touch me, dear,
your dearest heart awoke me with a rush,
my senses rushed by the fragrant sagebrush,
recall the brush of lips against my ear.
In thought I find the sweetest bloom you chose,
your choice remains to bring you closer still,
and still each bud of summer gives a thrill,
the thrill of love that like my garden grows.
A growing passion tickles at my nose,
I know inhaling scents that will fulfil,
refilling dreams of you, my love, until,
until I join my soul within your rose.
Recall the melody they played on strings
those sultry strings that echo tangos fall
My fallen heart revealed as lady sings
a song of love at end-of-summer ball
Vibrant ball gowns that rustle dancing rings
Amid the rings of painted beauties stall.
A stalling heart that sees the better things
the sweetest things as love I hear your call.
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Through autumn leaves we still pick our way
We will always love this time of year
The path is unclear but we will have all day
There is no dismay we have the sun to steer
That golden sphere will always be there
It knows we care, and for us will ever shine.
Yet pine leaves fall and leaves the trees all bare
We care but this is always natures design.
Rather it would be forever autumn with me
So we could spend forever living this way
Instead one day a cold new world we'd see
It has to be, so that spring in full array
Will say welcome to all new life born
And born it will be for her spirit is thus
Without fuss we will see new leaves adorn
And with each thorn the promise of a Rose.
Inspired by Justin Hayward's "War of the Worlds"
It had to happen
It cannot be, and I cannot kneel,
I feel I lost the thing that mattered.
You battered my heart so easily
Casually handing it back shattered.
It mattered not, I cannot see or hear
The one I want so near to hold
So cold the one I once held so dear
A clear whispered silence now so bold.
My life is dark and so quiet now
Now almost feeling like the grave
A graver love as deaf as death
A wreath is that release I crave?
Within that grave of dark despair
The tears have no longer cause to flow
Nothing grows here but who's to care
Who dares a barren love, where naught can grow.
My wings shall cover the tapestried earth
And the wide girth of the blue green sea
Flying high seeing the sun at it's birth
The world birth below in my apogee.
My wings in glee ride the silken morn
Patterning the torn, silent and sunlit sky
That lies under Cancer and Capricorn
Hiding my scorn flying where birds cannot fly.
My wings envy the height of the sun
Feeling one with the conquered mountain
Where certain cloud pennants are undone
Led and ruled by me as their sovereign.
My wings again are covering the world
In curled clouds whispering, singing in flight
My winged flight across continents has hurled
Entering the new world greeting the night.
Out of a void
Out of a void my love has grown
Grown from cosmic speck, a minute grain
From nothing a seed then a chain was sown
Finitely thrown it grew this heavenly domain
No stain of wood, nor steel, nor brick or stone
There's nothing known to shelter from harm
But a calm and pulsing heart of flesh alone
Made of love alone to protect and warm
Tanzen zur Liebesmelodie
Dancing to loves tune, we spin and turn
As you turn your heart skips and pounds
That pounding heart causes you to burn
Your eternal burning love ever resounds
With its magic sounds your innards stir.
Your lover's steps stir you, you soon find
Minds and bodies touching as this occurs
And you now prefer to dance entwined.
I have three lanterns that hang over my door
The first you cannot ignore, the light from the past;
Or go past the present that light we should explore.
Some instead look ahead for what will soon be passed.
And move too fast and miss important things
Then soon in missing them, it brings a deep regret
That cycle of regret, and worry for what life may bring
A thing of misery and a life that is too upset.
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Silverest moon shines the gray flagstone path,
Above this path the Greenman smiles down,
Not down at me, but looking up I see his breath
Breathing new life into summer seasons dawn.
Though all seasons dawn of die with his wrath
Or wrath replaced by benevolent eyes that fawn
On goddess fawns frolicking in springs on earth,
This earth being his keep, his hunt, his own.
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