Crystal & Bone


Poem Commentary

I was very young when I wrote this. I believe it was during my first year in high school, and had just begun learning the joys of writing as a hobby. This was one of my first attempts at poetry. I was not sure what I wanted my poem to be about only that I wanted it to have a 'fairy tale' feeling to it since I have always had an interest in the fantasy genre.

Crystal & Bone

In a magical realm there was a village made from crystal,
And as the wind blew it sounded a noise like a deep pitched whistle.
When the wind shifted it would make harmonious tones.
The music flew far, far to a land of bones.

The inhabitants of the skeletons did not like the sound.
So one day the bone warriors crawled out from the ground.
They marched and marched towards the musical village.
The plan (for when the got there) was to loot and pillage.

At last after days, and days they reached their destination.
Yet, the crystal dwellers treated them as though they had a reservation.
The death fighters were about to start their carnage and killing,
Then wind blew and the warrriors got a strange new feeling.

For the first time they heard the sound loud and clear.
They found it 'nice' as it flowed to their ear.
They heard the harmonious song of amends,
And now they live together with their peaceful friends.

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SuSpence commented on Crystal & Bone


Great one again. One of the better Fantasy writes I have seen on here. I hope this re-kindles your fire for writing. You have talent for sure my friend. You need to get pen to paper once again, and maybe take us once again into this world. ~Spence

ansari commented on Crystal & Bone


a new topic to poetry. I enjoyed it. a great presentation.

WordSlinger commented on Crystal & Bone


This is an amazing poem, written when young, huh, ok, I think you need to re-kindle your poetic camp-ground and whistle, thank you for a great piece, wow, WS



Thank you for the kind words. Partially what I've come here for is to rekindle my creative side. It's been a long since I've written anything.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

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