The Homecoming

Hello Ian! Gee that was ghoulishly good, move over Stephen King!What a theme, where did you conjure this up? and more importantly why. If flows right along like a tense novel and the whole while I'm thinking "where is this going"... to a very fitting, well described conclusion I must say! Liked it! Ta Boni ps. there is a quid pro quo for this you realise? Please check out my latest submission within this past hour. Dying to get some feedback on that one! THanks

I love the Trickster-Hobgoblin turn on the enchantment! Nights of Mystery and Magic, Indeed... Enthralling!! Raven

Ian, Generally there is a good flow to this piece but at a couple of points the meter shifts and knocks the flow out of kilter. Also, many of the American people will not know what a Flanders field is but the context of the poem gives all the necessary information and the word choice is much richer than any more common description. If you have gotten requests to fully explain that, ignore them as it enhances the basic feel of the work. I'm detailing some suggestions below, use what makes sense or spurs ideas for you and ignore the rest. Lines where I have suggestions are [BRACKETED] and most of the suggestions are made either to smooth out the imagery you appear to be trying to establish or fix meter issues as most of the poem is blank verse with a few exceptions and these exceptions caused me to loose my footing upon reading. ----------------------------------- [In long, white gowns four lithe women sway,] [Wild flowers woven in shining hair] [New blooms they harvested at dawn that day] Now glint by light of moon in cool night air. [With grace the dancers glide and cross and twine] As urgent throbs the beat of muffled drum [Midnight's] full moon shines cold on this display Of witchcraft by those widowed while still young In shade of tree, scarce seen in shadow deep Pan plays his pipes to goad the dancers on His cloak lies careless round his hirsute legs His cloven feet are seen where moonbeams shone. The church bell in the village sounds twelve times[,] Echoes through the [moonlit dell as] they dance. Pan takes the four young witches, [on their turn], As payment for his spell, their [final] chance At that same [moment], in a Flanders field Where those they loved and lost were hacked and slain Four corpses rotting in a stagnant ditch [Brush soil from rotting limbs alive again] [They had not considered death’s corruption] [Or how hideous their men had become] [They wailed as ruin burst through their cottage door] [And wretchedly hissed “Dear Darling! I’m home!”] ---------------------------------------------------- --Jonathan Annoying the world, one person at a time (Group discounts available)