Lyric № 135039
Oh Merry Fay (part 1)
There along the Filigree.
Where silver tides the
Yeomangown.
That, that will and that, that be.
Are dressed both in a
fellow down.
So daâce with me Oh
Merry Fay and dally
us our merry way.
While the Daladia ladies play
There holymn songs to Plato
Flarny are the men at Gar
who chank their teeth
at Filigreemen
and yank their hair and vank for war.
They are a millanteenth
angry men.
So daâce with me
Merry Fay and dally
us our merry way.
For I shall sail Gelal today
and I may die at sea.
The Garmen come.
They want us gone.
The Terramornge
will soon succumb
and The Earl of Orange
has turned and run
into the hills of Galveron
The odds are snarred
for we are so few.
Weâre farming men not army men.
Theyâre numbers large.
More than we knew
had ever marched this girthly span.
So daâce with me my
Merry Fay and dally
us our merry way
and pray we can keep them at bay.
Till the Platonians ally.
34 comments
Filigree.(,)~
That, that will and that, that be.(,)
Are dressed both in a
fellow down.~
angry men.> I would change to better the rythm/flow right there.~
Plato(.)~
turned and runned> (an') would flow better and follow the language used. (runned? >and ran? to run?)
Galveron(.)
for we are so few (too few? we're?)
large. (,)
girthly span.(kinda awkward right there, interupted the flow. ?shorten it, change?)
Thank ya Lil Lady.
Can you see any of the hidden WWII references?
You know, sometimes when I read this I hear it to the music of "Thank God I'm a Country Boy".
On the surface it's, um, entrancing. As far as punctuation, drop the periods at the ends of lines 1, 3, 4, s2line3, s4line3, s7line4. Add periods s2line5 and s5line7. You might also consider a comma at the end of s2line3, s3line4, s4line3.
Other than that, I'm afraid to comment, though I feel like you might have meant "snared" instead of "snarred", "Their" instead of "They're" in the same stanza, and another word besides "girthly". But who am I to say? 8th generation Irish-American, that's what.
http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/jabbe
As stated in above comments it's about writing a story using a lot of invented words and yet still tying together something like a story. The idea is that the reader uses their own imagination with the made up words and in doing so takes the poem to a personal level that the poet could not normally achieve.
And what mean all these mysteries to me
Whose life is full of indices and surds?
x² + 7x + 53
= 11/3
Maybe we can get Humpty Dumpty to explain some of our poems to Dovina.
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