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Tinker the Cat
#1
It's like a ghost ship here! So I've written a little rhyme to pass the time!

Forgive me in advance lol...

Tinker the Cat

A shout came from the crow's nest,
"Land ahoy, land ahoy!"
A call to chill the very hearts
Of every man and boy.

Belcraig Rock, the witches' isle,
All but fools would run a mile.
Yet here we were, a ragged crew,
Steadfast to our mission true.

The seer had seen it in a dream,
A cure we'd find to save the queen.
If we could only make a trade
With those old witches of Belcraig.

An old shore line, a makeshift camp,
Foggy, windy, wet and damp.
We lit a fire, we drew the straws,
Who would face those witchy maws.

Old Andrew drew that reed of fate,
And even though the hour was late,
And every step could be his last,
He set off down that witchy path.

And there we sat till break of day,
Till he returned, all ashen gray.
With haunted eyes and baleful glance,
He spoke as if one in a trance.

"One witch left, the last of three,
In fair exchange, I do decree,
That one must stay on Belcraig isle,
To help an old witch pass a while.

Bats and spiders, rats and mice,
Frogs and newts are very nice,
Yet somehow not enough for me,
One must stay, so mote it be."

And in his hands, he held a flask,
The writing said, "up to the task."
And silence echoed all around,
All eyes lowered to the ground.

No one could pay that dreadful cost,
And so it seemed all hope was lost.
When over by the rowboat's prow,
Came an old familiar meow.

The tarp had hid a stowaway,
Tawny, whiskered, striped, and gray.
'Twas Tink, the captain's feral cat,
I swear he understood all that.

He shot off down that witchy path,
As if each bound would be his last.
And as we all stared in disbelief,
Old Andrew said "so mote it be."

So there and then we all conspired,
To never speak of what transpired.
And all we'd given that old bat
Was salted beef and tallow fat.

Some fishing line, a box of nails,
Old gunny sacks and bail-out pails.
For we all knew the captain's mood,
And to a man we understood.

How he would rail and moan and cuss,
He'd rather have left one of us.
And even though we had the cure,
'Twould be the brig or lash for sure.

Sometimes I think of Belcraig isle,
And to this day, it makes me smile.
It made me somehow realise
That hell might just be paradise.

Depending on one's point of view,
When we set out for pastures new.
Like old cats and old boats,
Some might say that hope floats.

Not just for Tink, but for us all,
That we might heed that inner call,
To venture over far flung seas,
And shrouded isles of mystery.
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#2
Nice!!!
Be kind to everyone!
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#3
(07-06-2024, 12:02 PM)Quantum12 Wrote: Nice!!!

Hey Quantum, nice to see you here aboard the Marie Celeste!

Thank you!
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#4
It’s nice to be here! I really enjoyed your story! ?️

(07-06-2024, 01:21 PM)midicon Wrote: Hey Quantum, nice to see you here aboard the Marie Celeste!

Thank you!
Be kind to everyone!
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#5
I love this poem!    There are several very fine turns of phrase, and the cadence is a joy.   I can hear this as a 3/4 song, and could also hear it as a poem shouted by several people in a boisterous tavern, probably in Scotland, Ireland or Wales.   I definitely hear an accent in my head.   

Wonderful.   This is a great work midicon.   If you had more and published them, I would buy a copy.
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#6
(07-06-2024, 03:37 PM)argentus Wrote: I love this poem!    There are several very fine turns of phrase, and the cadence is a joy.   I can hear this as a 3/4 song, and could also hear it as a poem shouted by several people in a boisterous tavern, probably in Scotland, Ireland or Wales.   I definitely hear an accent in my head.   

Wonderful.   This is a great work midicon.   If you had more and published them, I would buy a copy.

Thanks Argentus lol. I felt the urge to post something here. God knows where Tinker the cat came from. Perhaps I'm that old cat cast adrift from ATS!

You are very kind.
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#7
(07-06-2024, 03:37 PM)argentus Wrote: I love this poem!    There are several very fine turns of phrase, and the cadence is a joy.   I can hear this as a 3/4 song, and could also hear it as a poem shouted by several people in a boisterous tavern, probably in Scotland, Ireland or Wales.   I definitely hear an accent in my head.   

Wonderful.   This is a great work midicon.   If you had more and published them, I would buy a copy.

I would totally buy a copy too!
Be kind to everyone!
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#8
(07-06-2024, 04:10 PM)midicon Wrote: Thanks Argentus lol. I felt the urge to post something here. God knows where Tinker the cat came from. Perhaps I'm that old cat cast adrift from ATS!

You are very kind.

I mean, the more I read it, and stomp the cadence in my head, the more I realise I'm in the presence of greatness.   This is an amazing work.   If you aren't making money with your lyrics, please consider a life change.
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#9
(07-06-2024, 05:06 PM)argentus Wrote: I mean, the more I read it, and stomp the cadence in my head, the more I realise I'm in the presence of greatness.   This is an amazing work.   If you aren't making money with your lyrics, please consider a life change.

​​​​​​Apologies for this late reply Argentus, I was sort of taken aback by your comment.


That poem was never intended to be a song, perhaps you assumed that from my introduction post, which is fine of course.

It's just a throwaway little rhyme that to my mind doesn't qualify as poetry or anything really. I just wanted to post something here, which in hindsight might not have been a good idea.

I am not a writer so anything I do write is basically amateurish and schoolboyish. I am happy with my level, it is what it is.

I'll get to the point of this reply. When you say things like "in the presence of greatness" or even "amazing', I think this must be sarcasm then I think, a mod wouldn't do that and yet the comment was too 'over the top'. Somehow I'm left discomfited by the whole thing, which I know is silly. Perhaps as a kindness you might remove this thread for me.
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#10
Midicon, perhaps you don't know me well enough to know that I am often guilty of complete frankness.    I say things how I see them.   I am a musician, and also a writer.   I don't get paid for either, but that doesn't negate those creative processes that exist with me.  

I WAS NOT making fun of you.  I really think this is a great work.   You see it as a one-off rambling.   I see it as a wonderful poem, which -- if viewed through the filter of musical cadence -- is also a very impressive work.  

I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable.   I truly believe this is a great work, and I won't apologize for that.   

You say you're not a writer.   I'm sorry, my friend, but you are wrong.   You are a writer.   You may not embrace that function within yourself, but I hope you choose to explore your creativity.    I have written song, poems, short stories since I was 12 and I'm now 66.   I know what I like and I know what I'm talking about.   I read more than one book at a time, and I'm a voracious reader.    

I don't compliment people for no reason.   I was truly touched by your poem, and I hope that you continue sharing your amazing talent with us.    Thumbup Thumbup ​​​​​​​ Thumbup
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