Please find the edited form of what once graced this page. I do hope this is improved from the first words.
As stories go it should not have been published at all, but was. The first workings of this story growing into a plan of action grew here on wattpad. It showed the workings of a creative mind, and I hoped that others saw it as an experimental piece of writing. The blur of thoughts we first recieve when a story comes to our minds is sometimes confused and mixed that we have to write it down so we can concentrate on our lives. Stories can overwhelm you, stopping everything else in your life. Wattpad does allow for the story to develop and change until all the many edits are preformed. The beauty of this online space, so our readers can have input as co midwives of our stories we read and comment on each others work and help out if serious edit is needed. The companionship of other writers giving feedback in the group is how many stories have developed though out time. All healthy and necessary for some writers. I know what type of writer I am and it is one that needs to unclutter my brain of ideas. I have way too many ideas. To write the story idea down allows me to go back one day to fix all the problems that idea has. It frees me creativity so I can then finish another project before I revisit the gem hidden here. I know of artists who have worked on many paintings at the same time so I believe I am like this with my stories, lets me then bring you back to this story developing here.
Here my reader be carried to a different dimension,
All those who pass by the singing jester
in multi-coloured clothes, a story will not be complete
without the comic within to juggle the world of words.
A fantasy that grows from imagination;
Now awaits recreation into a grand tale
From a different world so far away
existing within the storytellers subconscious realms.
A place of dreams our stories are
Plucked from the make-believe, just waiting to unfold.
To have a beginning middle and end as all stories must.
The storyteller, if be young or old, catches the untold
by the tail. Then sits it down in their mind weaving the words
All around, in patterns bold, to form each line to be held.
They cast a spell in the minds of all who hear the tale.
And carry each listener or reader on this grand adventure.
In times long gone the writer was a teller that simply sang.
They reach out with the oral code and began to sing.
Just imagine how it once was, the music of the lute
the flute,or was there a drum? A good strong and clear voice,
ringing out loud and long , for hours they would sing.
In court or in the common plaza like the mall we know
as our equivalent. A place where many gather
to be seen and sometimes heard.
The oral code is flexible and can change with each
town or court, to nurture and coerce a meal or two.
For the teller of the grand sung ode also needs food.
And a place safe to sleep and dream and of course must drink.
To ease the muscles and the voice those amazing vocal cords.
Stories
Sometimes take years to grow before the real telling shows.
Then caught by the printing press our stories solidified
no longer to be as the random tale sung in all different ways.
So you see the stories in print are fully formed and complete
Not like here in wattpad world, here things can change overnight
Right before your eyes a story can mushroom from words out of place
and published for all to see each and every mistake made.
Just as oral story tellers of old who begin to sing out the ode.
Here the adventure begins as a seed it sits
on this sheet of light, a seed not fully formed still fruit unripe.
The tale just growing and reforming before your eyes.
At first it will become a shoot so young and new
with jumbled words without real connection, but
If our little shoots are visited and read, we the creator
will take that next big step and with tender care
will edit this first creation, to develop the best.
Weeding out the unwanted and correcting our gems
hidden in this garden of our own creations.
The garden of our first words replanted
for the tale to grow in fertile ground.
Straight into our followers minds
are where our little seeds grow
to begin a story life for real in solid print.
(@gailrunschke)
YOU ARE READING
Storyteller's Epic Poem
PoetryA story told in the style of an Epic Poem. The adventures of a child from a humble village who at first is lost, ill and alone is force out to travel the road in search of his father. As the story grows here the edit will happen to correct the many...
