Not sure I understand the purpose of the question Bob. I suppose many
ballads are about that subject. I was choosing that form as a sort of mood
setting for the piece simply because as you say many ballads are about such.
By breaking the rhythm, as I did in the inset lines, I was sort of 'Trojan
horsing' a more modern sparsity into the accepted melodic flow of the
ballad.
As a matter of interest I shall be considering the piece in a purely
balladic form just to see.
Wildersham Woods to me is part a local wood at Newsholme Dene and part the
wood where I scattered my wife's ashes in the Valley of Desolation above
Bolton Abbey. This is what was in my head as I wrote at least.
Flyoing off at a tangent, as is my wont, do you like the Border Ballads??
The Wife of Usher's Well. Sir Patrick Spens. Little Musgrove?? Some of my
favourite reads in there. Arthur.
----- Original Message -----
From: "Bob Cooper" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, September 02, 2003 1:21 PM
Subject: Re: New Sub: Wildersham Woods - a Question
Hi Arthur,
(I seem to be in a theory kind of mood today...)
I've got a question...
Why do you want to write this as a, what you call, broken ballad? Aren't
many ballads about this theme, the loss of love?
Bob
And if other people are reading this I've another question...
With a name like "Wildersham" where do we think it is?
I would say, the UK, Cambridgeshire, Suffolk, Bedfordshire sort of area. All
bicycles and warm beer...
B
>From: arthur seeley <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: New Sub: Wildersham Woods ( Replies et al )
>Date: Mon, 1 Sep 2025 07:49:08 +0100
>
>Christina, Sue, Ryfkah, Colin and Bob.
>My thanks to you all for your kind read. The last strophe is overly twee
>and
>I will look at that.
>I have a confession to make , particularly to Bob and Colin, and that is
>that Wildersham Woods is totally fictitious as a place. The events depicted
>in the 'broken ballad ' are essentially true and personal to me but the
>place is a symbol of how the world appears at different stages of a
>relationship involving love.
>I called the form a 'broken ballad' in my head while writing it, because it
>is caught between the musicality of the opening lines, some of which
>lingers
>in the rest of the strophe, and the sparse modernity of the inset lines,
>where others seek to put words to complete an incomplete rhythm.
>Sally E commented on sentimentality and she was right in that I was trying
>to skate close to the sincerity of our feelings without the cloy that is
>unfortunately sometimes there. It worked for three strophes anyway. The '
>weep' of the last strophe was my falldown I think and in this I was
>seduced
>by the rhythmic alliteration of the 'W' sounds of the earlier strophes
>which, as I have confessed, was fabricated in the first place. Still again
>,
>thank you all for the read and time taken to comment. I hope the admission
>does not detract from the read. Arthur
>----- Original Message -----
>From: "Bob Cooper" <[log in to unmask]>
>To: <[log in to unmask]>
>Sent: Sunday, August 31, 2003 10:32 PM
>Subject: Re: New Sub: Wildersham Woods
>
>
>Hi Arthur,
>
>I'm piggy-backing again!
>And this is a fine piece! I can hear it! And I'm enjoying the softness of
>its sounds without even saying them!
>
>But not liking the last stanza too much. It seems to say the obviousl a bit
>too obviously. It's as if I know what's coming as soon as I'm 2 or 3 words
>into its first line - and there's nothing in the following lines that
>lingers - nothing stays with me when I've finished (unlike the fine turns
>of
>phrase you've got earlier on, that others have commented on already!).
>
>But the last stanza... I'm playing here... a suggestion!
>-- to scrap the last stanza, and the last line of the previous stanza! Then
>end the poem with something like: Trees were a roof over us, leaves a bed
>under us/ but by the morning the coldest wind blew. (Or something like that
>that's more what you want to say!) Something enigmatic that gives the
>reader
>enough space to discover all you're saying.
>
>And, often, like Colin I keep wanting to add small words - fill the lines
>with small words that seem to help its gentleness and flowing lyricsism.
>
>And where is Wildersham? It sounds very ruraly southern England to me.
>(Sounds like you've been playing away! LOL!!!)
>
>Bob
>
>
> > > Wildersham Woods
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > While I was walking through Wildersham Woods
> > >
> > > I met and walked a short way with her.
> > >
> > > Dress billowed and flared
> > >
> > > brown hair bounced
> > >
> > > smile tore ribbons from me
> > >
> > > light rippled through the rails of bare branches.
> > >
> > > For days I searched for her far head in crowds.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I went whistling through Wildersham Woods
> > >
> > > held her warm hand in mine, turned my eyes to her
> > >
> > > watched birds clatter
> > >
> > > through leafing boughs
> > >
> > > blue swathes of bright bells.
> > >
> > > The whites of her eyes lit my life
> > >
> > > and my nights were dazed with sweet amazements.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > I went wooing in Wildersham Woods
> > >
> > > showed her my dreams and piped her my heart
> > >
> > > laid long to her side
> > >
> > > drew honey from soft combs
> > >
> > > believed in forever.
> > >
> > > Trees were a roof over us, leaves a warm bed under us
> > >
> > > and we knew all the worldâ?Ts secrets and ways.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > Now I weep silently through Wildersham Woods
> > >
> > > for she has gone, she sleeps in another place?
> > >
> > > Autumn has burned
> > >
> > > branches stripped by winds
> > >
> > > and no birds sing.
> > >
> > > A cold wind tumbles the leaves around me
> > >
> > > whispers of another time and mocks this empty space.
> > >
> >
>
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