Dispute with Melody

A Poem

[This poem is written in a four-beat accentual meter, which means that there are four strong accents per line. As an accentual meter, the un-accented (weak stress) syllables are not necessarily regulated.

You can read this poem by simply giving four of the syllables in each line a strong stress when you say them. If I’ve done my job right the rhythm should make itself apparent and help you along.]

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Dispute with Melody

Below the luster of a languished night,
Where the long shadows lightly tread,
Bays and howls pervade the heights,
And the wind has whispered the ancient dead,
It speaks the stirrings of shallow graves,
Faint murmuring hearts from the earthen nave.

She:
“Forget me not, or forget me full,
Or let me fly and seek the wind,
Let up your grasp and release my soul,
Or risk my love and pull me in;
Your kiss has locked this heart of mine,
And tossed the key to the fields of time.”

He:
Melody, dear, your words are untrue,
I cannot believe them, though they burn,
Your song, your whistle, your every coo,
Fills me not, but leaves me to yearn;
And yearning long in midnight’s yawn,
Awaiting forever, the morning’s dawn.

She:
“My lord, my liege, my beloved man,
Do you doubt my tongue is true?
Feel its proof with your worried hand,
My love is yours, through and through.
Come back to me and find your rest
Within the comfort of my warming breast.”

He:
You sing in earnest, or desperate need,
Desiring love in the heap of night?
The immortal hope for imploring seed
To secretly culture the kernel of life?
What is the trade if you take my germ
And weave the sinews of a terrible wyrm?

She:
“No wyrm am I, nor beast so foul,
Not dragon, not serpent or slithering snake,
I shall not hiss, or bite, or howl,
I pray thee love, do not forsake
My graceful touch, my needful thigh,
Take me now, or I shall die.”

He:
Now I know that you speak in jest
With embellished word and empty tease,
And though you flaunt those fulsome breasts,
You will not tempt me with such ease,
I have bitten down and bled my lip
Instead of tasting poison from your hips.

She:
“Crude, crude, you’re the crudest of men,
With such speech you ought be ashamed,
Surely you know you’re without defense
To pain me with these needless games,
And if you think you’ve made me to shoo,
Well, I can do much better than you.”

He:
Then do whom you do, and leave me out,
If sucking the juice of a sour fruit
Is much the same as sampling your mouth,
I spit out the stone of this insane pursuit.
Then if I die without your touch,
At least I won’t be missing much.

She:
“You offend a lady’s precious dignity
Without a thought of befitting speech,
Will you question my solemn virginity?
Whatever border shall you not breach,
In your quest to unveil the bare-breasted truth,
You vagrant son, you sick-minded sleuth.”

He:
The lady tells me that my mind is sick,
Oh how you sting my pride with your breath,
It is quite rich that you accuse so quick
Of others what you ought yourself confess,
Dear girl, deem me crass or deem me wrong,
I simply don’t care, I say so long.

She:
“Fine! Fine! I tire of your lines,
Your silly gibes and unseeing eyes,
You’re given over to reprobate mind,
No woman respects such pitiful sighs;
My piercing barbs have so surely hit,
You’ve embarrassed yourself with this boyish fit.”

He:
Off with you, get on your way,
Careful not to trip on your toes,
Go trade your words, make others pay
For the crime of bearing your mouthy woes,
I’ve heard enough and paid my dues
For suffering the press of your torturous ruse.

She:
“You bear the marks of a worthless man,
The type who knows only the caress of his hand.”

He:
With nose held high, leave with your pride intact,
But you feign disgust and I know you’ll be back.

Before the rising of the raging dawn,
When night is long and passion short,
Fleeting moments are quickly gone
If the lady demands a sound retort.
Answer not with reason’s part,
But speak proud with a fearless heart.  

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