Analysis of Poem By My Son Trystan
Mothballs and cedar assault my nose
The dust mites and stale air dry my throat
A wardrobe that is just that
The lion roars no more
Neutered and robbed of his fire
The last time the words were read
In the darkness of this cell I fear the witch no more
Drunk at her cauldron
Slurred words conjure no magic
Snow driven mountains of pure white
Have dissolved into a gray haze
Footprints like bread crumbs dissolved
My desperate escape blocked
Solid wood between me and salvation
My world made infinitely smaller
When the gateway to Narnia can no longer be imagined — the magic dies
(Trystan Colin Behm- April, 2024)
| Scheme | X X X A B X A C X X X X X C B X X |
|---|---|
| Poetic Form | |
| Metre | 10100111 011011111 011111 010111 10011110 0110101 0010111110111 11010 1110110 11010111 10101011 111101 110011 1010110010 111100010 10111111010100101 110110 |
| Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
| Characters | 651 |
| Words | 139 |
| Sentences | 1 |
| Stanzas | 17 |
| Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
| Lines Amount | 17 |
| Letters per line (avg) | 29 |
| Words per line (avg) | 7 |
| Letters per stanza (avg) | 29 |
| Words per stanza (avg) | 7 |
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"Poem By My Son Trystan" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 26 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/184289/poem-by-my-son-trystan>.
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