Analysis of Isles of Graney Bay



Isles of Graney Bay
The seagulls flocked upon the rocks in Graney Bay.
They rise upon the ocean, basking in the sun's array.
By the hundreds, they spread their wings in Scottish skies.
While the pipes play off in the distance, a sonnet of Charlie Blye.

The resonating sounds of the birds drown out music in my ears.
While the anglers set their traps from the crudely built piers.
I gaze out into the cold blue water, which cries out for me.
 For it is time I find my sweet lass across the Scottish sea.

To leave my shanty shack built upon the cliff overlooking the glen,
Where the site gives way to heaven's emergence from beauties, den.
I shall avail myself upon the crag to cast my soul towards the deep,
For I shall not rest another day for the lass I dream of in my sleep.

I hear her wails as sweet and clear as she cries out from the deep blue sea..
I know the bonny lass is beyond the mist waiting for our true love to be.
At last I will stay, as all my dreams are but dreams as I am old and grey.
As the seagulls fly and the pipes play on the isles of Graney Bay.


Scheme AAAXX BBCC DDEE CCAA
Poetic Form
Metre 11101 01101010101 11010101000101 101011110101 1011100100101101 010011011110011 1010111101011 111010111011111 111111111010101 1111011010110001 101111100101101 11011010111110101 111110101101111011 11011101111110111 11010110101101101111 111111111111111101 101100111011101
Closest metre Iambic octameter
Characters 1,055
Words 213
Sentences 16
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 5, 4, 4, 4
Lines Amount 17
Letters per line (avg) 49
Words per line (avg) 13
Letters per stanza (avg) 208
Words per stanza (avg) 53
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Submitted on September 28, 2013

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:04 min read
1

Norman Wilson

IntroductionForgotten are the times the tick of a clock once chimed sobering sounds that caressed my hearts nightly dreams. As I awaken to the touch of light that burns upon a candles wick flickering my words for all to see. This drives my thoughts through the darkest of nights of loneliness that renders my quill upon parchment with ink that dances to minds and souls.Now I hear the screeching of my heart when the blue horizon covers the orb of emptiness.Within the shelter of my mind with little, purpose other than my words that keep me sane. These are my new poems I have written in the quiet of my night, forever wished away in a writer’s pain. As I strive to write that perfect poem that, my soul desperately seeks. Then and only then can my words rest upon a sleep. more…

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