I've Lost Count of the Homes That I Have Lost
On the plus side, i think this "sonnet, blank verse, envoi" form has promise, it needs a name though. i've lost count of the homes that i have lost. one time too many i've been driven out.
A Mismatched Seaside Heaven
Fredrick was an utmost gentleman and recited the sonnets of the great rodent poets for sadie on the spot, and their love was sealed in an instant. within mere minutes, the pair developed a connection that could not be broken.
Dragon Lover
My Love for Dragons is for eternal I wish I would have it as a house pet Wanting to have one as a nocturnal Riding a dragon to see the skies met Dreams about it, I see myself as him Release my primal instinct as I please Wit vicious...
The Word in Ink & The Happy Ending
* * * and now that we've taken the first step (in sonnet form, of course), it seems much easier to go on and post something else: a five-part limerick of far sillier status.
...and thou
He had only known one of the sonnets before, and he looked for it first.
Day's End
This is a sonnet i wrote, and its not about death i can assure you if you dont get it sorry!!!
Autumn Interrupts
It's easy to forget what autumn means In tired lands of sun-stuffed tedium; Assassin breeze the blackfly never weans, The forecast is extremely medium. It's easy to forget those ragged skies Crushed, throttled, splintered by the frigid light ...
Just Be By My Side (sonnet)
()()()()()()()() this is a shakespearian style sonnet that i wrote one day. i was missing my boy friend to death, cause he was asleep, so i figured i would write him this. i hope you all like it, comment?
The Pale Gardener (Poem)
More to come soon (as long as it's not another sonnet, i might die). enjoy!
A Hunter's Anguish (Poetry)
(it's a spencerian sonnet in iambic pentameter if you know the technical stuff). well i hope you like it and have a great day! a hunter's anguish i chase, running as a wind unrestrained, through the forest, the swamp, the endless sea.
Blue Sonnet, part 1
.** **casino nights** **"blue sonnet, part 1"** **.o.o.o.** rick glanced across his office at grace holloway. he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed while the female wolf looked at him nervously.
Liminality
A year starts not on January first. The days may hunder but the seasons speak of time's long march, of fast time, slow time. Thirst for "start" and "end" neglects the limen sleek. So, why do some unsubtle sciences forget...