The dark room den

[Keith]

ta da...i said i'd be back....

the poem; here's the thing, for me you're leaning to close to enids formula to make it your own experiences. and not enough to use her as an kick board to bounce off. i really do like the read but think it needs a bit more attention to detail. i like the first stanza and thought it opened the poem well enough (with a small edit) from there it seems to move too quick and to coldly.

It could have been penned by Enid Blyton,
four boys and a girl finding a secret panel, a suggestion would be [kids] or some kind of kids [angsty kids,] or [secretive kids] or some other kind of kids.
peeling back the carpet in the pantry,
a hidden door to our adventures and days of darkness. [our] is a given, is it needed? would adventure sound better as doing the same thing over would seem boring?
The wooden slab lifted as though it sealed a tomb, wooden slab feels like mix of concrete and wood
five faces peering into the gloom. here's where you get in the famous five. anyone who knows of enid will know your five consist of four lads and a girl...though in reality or in enid's reality it was Julian, Dick, Anne, their tomboy cousin George (Georgina) and Timmy the dog which would make it two boys two girls and a dog. pretty major if your comparing five to five.

Father had hand crafted a stair
and said we should never, ever go there. go where...to the stair?
He told us a tale of a rancid basement,
were the house secreted all of its ailments,
all of its creeks and all of its groans, creaks
this was not a place we should roam.

The first room was musty and smelled like a dungeon,
the dog barked looking down from the hatch,
there was always a canine on the caper with Blyton,
but without a torch he sent us scurrying back.

Through a small wooden frame to our antechamber, not sure how i got to here, i thought you ran away?
carpeted with an offcut from the last years front room,
this quickly became our hideaway
and meeting place on holiday afternoons,
we furnished it with bean bags and a sweet stash.

Of course you needed a pass to get in,
complete with a cellotape taken print,
signed and sealed with a drop of blood,
“always together” the dark room mob.

It was from that control centre our cases were solved, again [our] feels redundant
neatly wrote up and filed in a box,
including the mystery of the milk bottle tops.
When neighbours complained of damage done early
by visiting vandals or something more scary.

I would just like to say that I’m here to report
and the dark room mob would swear this in court.
That while number 10 slept away with their dreams,
it was a sparrow that had it away with their cream. why does the last stanza change into a seeming verse?

Many thanks Billy you have given my plenty to work with here and that's greatly appreciated, I don't know why I feel the need to throw in verse but it does keep happening, most people pick it up and say it breaks the flow, I guess I do it because I don't feel I've hit the mark with other poetic devices and I'm trying to avoid it being too prosey. Best Keith

---

It could have been penned by Enid Blyton,
four boys and a girl finding a secret panel,
peeling back the carpet in the pantry,
a hidden door to our adventures and days of darkness.
The wooden slab lifted as though it sealed a tomb,
five faces peering into the gloom.

Father had hand crafted a stair
and said we should never, ever go there.
He told us a tale of a rancid basement,
were the house secreted all of its ailments, -- I think that because you've used enjambment on the previous line this next line reads a little awkwardly
all of its creeks and all of its groans,
this was not a place we should roam.

The first room was musty and smelled like a dungeon,
the dog barked looking down from the hatch,
there was always a canine on the caper with Blyton,
but without a torch he sent us scurrying back.

Through a small wooden frame to our antechamber,
carpeted with an offcut from the last years front room,
this quickly became our hideaway
and meeting place on holiday afternoons,
we furnished it with bean bags and a sweet stash.

Of course you needed a pass to get in, - I believe a comma after of course would help separate the parenthetical information
complete with a cellotape taken print,
signed and sealed with a drop of blood,
“always together” the dark room mob.

It was from that control centre our cases were solved,
neatly wrote up and filed in a box,
including the mystery of the milk bottle tops.
When neighbours complained of damage done early
by visiting vandals or something more scary.

I would just like to say that I’m here to report
and the dark room mob would swear this in court.
That while number 10 slept away with their dreams,
it was a sparrow that had it away with their cream.

Thanks Brownlie I will take these to the edit. Best Keith