Serenade

[twist]

The Arctic Ocean was alive with music
Young male walruses practised serenading a sweetheart
They rehearsed for hours in quartets and quintets
But Sylvia looked away and sighed
She was looking for someone special
Not just any young bull
Her mother, a legend, died saving Sylvia
From a polar bear's clutches
Sylvia knew well what love meant
One night as she sat on a rock in the moonlight
She heard a tune coming from the ocean
A young bull trying to impress her no doubt
He sang and sang for two whole days
A haunting medley, Love me tender to My cherie amour
Then emerged the handsome face with gleaming tusks
Of the serenader who won her heart

[twist]

I would appreciate any comments. It doesn't flow too well..

[Pompey Bum]

The images are delightful but I would suggest something less serious sounding, with a deliberately playful meter and a more developed rhyme scheme. It would help to draw the story out into a kind of mock love balled, too. Try reading The Owl and the Pussycat (by Edward Lear) to see what I mean. Good luck!

[twist]

Thanks for your valuable comments, Pompey! Will try and change the poem accordingly.

[Pompey Bum]

Sure! Here's what I came up with. I changed the heroine's name from Sylvia to to Sylvie, so it's not quite plagiarism. :) Anyway, this is the sort of thing I was suggesting:

Walrus Serenade
By Pompey Bum (and Twist)

Oh up in the arctic where the wild narwhals joust,
Buck walruses tried for to roust up a spouse.
One picked up a fiddle with flipper and fin,
And he sang to his Sylvie of God and of sin.

But Sylvie, she scoffed at the silly old lubber,
And she looked to the beach where boys shook their blubber.
So her suitor, besotted, decided to sing
Of a moat, and a castle, and a queen, and a king.

The boys slid about her, their aspects full daring,
And snortled and chortled, their thick nostrils flaring.
They turned on their tummies then rolled on their backs,
With their tusks and their musks flying as in attack.

Her lover, forsaken, looked down at the ice,
And he wondered if maybe a reel would be nice,
Or a jig, or a polka, or maybe a paen,
While the boys gathered round where his lady reclined.

But the girl took a dip in the churning white water,
And was frolicking free till a polar bear caught her.
The walruses bellowed until their brains addled,
Then they huffed and they puffed and they boldly skedaddled.

But one boy stood firm with his fiddle in hand,
And as Sylvie besought him, he dreamt up a plan.
Then baring his already bared ivory tusks,
He leapt toward the beast with an attitude brusque.

Young Sylvie broke free of the bear's deadly maw,
While her gallant companion with flipper met paw.
Then over the ice fields the she-walrus tumbled,
While down in the sea the combatants still rumbled.

Oh somewhere beyond where the caribou go,
Sits a walrus named Sylvie huddled up in the snow.
She remembers a boy and she thinks on him long,
And she sings his white bones the most lovely love song.

[Pompey Bum]

I just showed this poem to Mrs. Bum, who was a little offended. She recognized instantly who the awkward suitor was supposed to be, but told me that she wasn't a flirt like Sylvie. How one suffers for one's art! :)

[twist]

I'm very impressed that you came up with a brilliant poem so quickly. I really appreciate your help.
Sorry that your better half was offended by it! lol

[Pompey Bum]

Thanks you for the compliment, but the original vision was yours. So it's a joint effort of sorts. But you should still try your own. :)