Supernatural adventures for girls and women.

[writing] NaPoWriMo Day 7: Lover’s Chain, Hexadine

Still following Seanan McGuire’s Lover’s Chain tutorial. The seventh step is the hexadine, a two stanza, seven line poem. The first stanza is four lines, ABBA rhyme scheme, and the second stanza is three lines, ACA rhyme scheme. The first line of each stanza is the same. I am writing a love poem to a monstrous final girl.

Because the first line of each stanza is the same, I’ll start there, using it as an anchor line.

You ran, dress red-black as blood in the moonlight.

(It is also at this point that I realized I switched tenses on step five. Each poem is separate, so I am debating as to whether I can let that remain or rewrite it to make it all match.)

1A You ran, dress red-black as blood in the moonlight.
2B Darted through brush, over fallen branches,
3B until the monster, heavy, and wide and furred, rose on its haunches,
4A and you leaped, silver knife carving the night.

Yeah, I realize that B rhyme is pretty forced, but I wanted haunches anyway.

1A You ran, dress red-black as blood in the moonlight,
2C straight into the monster’s reach.
3A Knife flashed, blood, and with a howl-like scream, it launched into the fight.

Lover’s Chain

1
The moon rises, bright and full, and with it comes peace.

2
Bloody, bruised, you escape death;
Come, darling, rest, catch your breath.

3
You wore a dress I love, bell skirt swinging;
we danced beneath the bright moonlight.
Kiss me, you said, and I obeyed — left us breathless, joyful, clinging.

4
Behind us, woods, empty and dark.
Silent, but for the crunch of broken leaves.
“Wait,” I said, chilled and leery.
You kissed me, you smiled — I’ll be right back.

5
I shiver, cold damp air on bare skin,
branches tremble in the wind, drop leaves.
It crashes through the brush nearby, big, furred — my breath goes thin.
Branches tremble in the wind, drop leaves.
I shiver, cold damp air on bare skin.

6
I froze, terrified, face to face with a beast.
It opened its long muzzle wide, flashed sharp, shiny teeth.
You were safe, my love, I thought, at least, at least.

Then you appeared, one hand on my arm, dragging me away beneath
the lowest branches, silver at your fingers, brow creased.
My hero, but you left me, fear holding me still, in the broken heath.

7
You ran, dress red-black as blood in the moonlight.
Darted through brush, over fallen branches,
until the monster, heavy, furred, rose on its haunches,
and you leaped, silver knife carving the night.

You ran, dress red-black as blood in the moonlight,
straight into the monster’s reach.
Knife flashed, blood, and with a howl-like scream, it launched into the fight.

This entry was posted in Writing and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post. Post a comment or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.
Post a comment

Post a Comment

Your email is never published nor shared. Required fields are marked *

*
*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>