Feeling a twinge of homesickness and nostalgia, Elixabeth went about writing a poem reminiscing about the natural beauty of her homeland of Norway. Having had experience with the Sestina form and enjoying the structure of it, she ultimately decided to write it in that form. OOC: I've always found Sestinas to be my favorite poem to write because they are simple yet are very fun to read and write and often flow very well .
Of all the flowing lands that stretch the planet Earth, none come close to Norway.
Animal and human live as one with undivided heart, united by forceful spirit.
Though thoughts of my homeland far too often, conjure only thoughts of death.
I could never forsake the love I bear, for the country that gifted my existence.
A land that breathes hope, that breathes life, that breathes freedom.
Grand cabin of the North I reside in now, but it could never be home.
The greatest bane of one's happiness is separation from the home.
I shall never fully be healed from my most grievous exodus from Norway.
No amendments or rights could ever yet grant me my emotional freedom.
The thought of what I have lost continues to plague my very spirit.
My homeland haunts me still with it's beautious, icy existence.
A land eternally teeming with life, even as I ever think of death.
Yet new life springs before me each day, even as the past reeks of death.
More and more friendly faces rise to the occasion, and make me feel at home.
Leadership, legacy, responsibility, give continued purpose for my existence.
I must realize that the Gods had a plan for my narrow departure from Norway.
Survival is what drives the cycle of nature, and it fuels my very spirit.
Far too often it is taken for granted, that living itself is a sacred freedom.
I maintain eternal gratitude for my privlege to sustain my living freedom.
Even as I witness others stricken down, with whips and chains of death.
No hardship however grand or cruel, could ever thaw my frozen spirit.
All else may drift away, but my heart still provides eternal home.
For it is a heart molded in the frozen lands of the unmatched Norway.
It's natural beauty, thriving life, the greatest in existence.
It is not wise to question fate, I cannot doubt it's existence.
For it has brought me strength and glory, a new land of doubtless freedom.
Yet it sadly seems to have seen fit, to carry me far from Norway.
A red soul destined to continue, not bound for frozen death.
A life in exile triumphs I suppose, over a life cut short at home.
But I know my familiy guides me still, though clad in ethereal spirit.
I wonder what they would say to me now, those who dwell in spirit.
My hope is that they are proud, that I have not wasted my existence.
That I thrive in camp and mature and lead, even if it is still not home.
And I maintain respect for all of nature, and take for granted not my freedom.
Lastly that I no longer maintain regret, that I could not follow them in death.
Though this ultimate of gifts means sad separation from the great land of Norway.
So stand ever stronger frozen spirit, do not make for naught your freedom.
For your continued and thriving existence, makes not for naught sad deaths.
Do not forsake all you learned within your frozen home, you great legacy of Norway.
Poem written by: Elixabeth/Wind