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Best Assonance Poems

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ASSONANCE CONSONANCE by MO, Marugu

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The Best Assonance Poems

Details | Assonance Poem | |

A Well-Known Stranger

'Twas a sound I thought alarming, most assuredly disarming;
Up I rose from peaceful slumber to discern what it might be.
While my candle flickered, wavered; whilst my heartbeat halted, quavered,
At my window I was favoured by it sounding, dreadfully-
In the darkness loudly pounding- drawing nearer, dreadfully
As if calling out to me.

When the window I unshuttered, as my heart so wildly fluttered
Sounded forth the sound, and nearer, sounded forth so dismally:
And I heard the tempest sighing, through the trees and chimneys crying,
As if left alone and dying by some God-forsaken sea-
Quite forsaken, quite abandoned by the inky, lifeless sea,
Just as black as black can be.

There I stood a moment longer as the wailing winds grew stronger.
'Tis, I thought, but silly fancies dreamed imaginatively;
For there's nothing coming, leaving, and the night can be deceiving;
Yes, the wind was only breathing on the ancient maple tree,
Which was rapping on the shutters in the night, incessantly-
This was all that it could be.

Then a furious arctic guster gathered might and main and muster
And with hands so cold and clammy put my candle out while he
Wrapped his chilling hands around me, in his frozen grip he bound me;
I, his presence all around me groaned and grumbled in the dark;
As I groped and griped and stumbled, groaned and grumbled in the dark-
While he laughed so wickedly.

To the window, pitter-patter, I rehasped it with a clatter
Then relit and watched my candle as it flamed assuredly,
While it lit the old surroundings; but then how my heart was pounding!
As I gazed at the astounding standing on my posted bed,
Perched above the feathered pillows where I rest my weary head,
Perched there unashamedly.

"Ah," said I, "this nameless flutter sounding, pounding on the shutter
It was only this dear fellow trying so determinedly
To gain entrance to my dwelling, all to bring this piece of spelling,
And there really is no telling who has sent him here to me
'Till I read the little letter fastened on below his knee,
That he bears so cheerfully.

I undid the purple ribbon tied about the charming pigeon,
Quite forgetful of his presence as I read absorbedly.
I spent little time deciding who had sent this piece of writing,
For it bore me happy tidings in a hand I knew so well;
In a cheerful, laughing manner, so it was not hard to tell
That it was from my Melody.

"My favourite ribbon, I've untied it from my hair and wrapped inside it
All the words I wish to say, but am too far to tell to thee."
From this point and on hereafter I omit her words of laughter,
Words that make my heart beat faster; words that stop it suddenly:
Words that make me melancholy; words that make me shout with glee-
Words sent by my Melody.

When I'd traced each perfect letter, I was thinking clearer, better;
I set out some feed and water for my friend, repentantly.
"Pigeon," said I, "rest beside me; walls and roof shall safely hide thee
From the tempest roaring blindly o'er the inky, lifeless sea."
And I squinted through the shadows where he perched there silently;
Resting, sleeping peacefully.

Drawing near, I kissed him gently, thinking all the while intently
That the very place I kissed him once was cradled tenderly
By the hand I wish was holding onto mine, and deftly molding
Into mine, and mine enfolding, that of her who wrote to me;
That of her so far away across the inky, lifeless sea-
That of dearest Melody.

Entered In Kelly Deschler's Contest, "The Raven"

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Waiting For Sunrise

My whole life waits, just this moment, the ink still

wet; for sunrise this clear May morning.

My shaman up already,
hair askance, dancing and trilling his flute
to the crescent moon face,
lit by the blue iron square welcoming
the sun.

The Sun appears now...my expectations grow...

A foray into the secret riverbank forest, hunting
for Morels with my hobo friend ( by choice,
wishing not to support 4 ex-wives)  Clark,
he with his walking stick adorned with colorful
talisman ribbons accumulated from a life spent
wandering....me with my crafted Yucca stick
a friend made for me.

Then...off to pick-up heirloom vegetable plants
a master gardener has nurtured for me to
grow in my community plot, where my friends
are happy to see me.

Amidst all, I'll have Ma accompany me,
(not in the woods) but not far away, her
smile always eager to share in my discoveries,
a comfortable sitting bench at the garden awaits
her, the smell of fresh-turned soil enriches her.

Later, I promised her we would grill at one
of her favorite places she remembers going
with Pop, alongside Minnehaha Creek, the
water gently flowing this time of year, birds
singing and Ducks playing,

The Sun is up further now,
this poem must end,

my destiny 

awaits



5/2/15
7am


Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

When Winter Comes, Remember Me

==============================

When Winter comes, remember me 
beside you on lush ivory sand. 
If icy fingers beckon thee, 
arise and brush aside her hand. 

As you awake on shortening days, 
when Winter comes, remember me. 
Hoar frost just may forsake her grays 
and let wet days set colors free. 

Light snow may fall so subtly, 
pale notes on parchment sheer as sleet, 
when Winter comes. Remember me
and I shall play each shivering sheet. 

July's abundant harvest gone, 
I'm owed no Summer memory 
but hope you will, from this day on, 
when Winter comes, remember me....

==============================

Name: Lycia Harding
Date: Oct 28, 2015
Contest: Any Sad Poem
Sponsor: Broken Wings

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Wing's beneath my feet

       This women in my home argues why I leave her so-much along.
        Together she say, the two of us should make the weakest link in
        the chain strong (relationship).  "but she's all along".  The bird's
        chirping as the sun awaken and stretch forth its arm as another day
        creeps through the curtains and not one word is spoken. "This stran-
        ger in my home".  Whoe, I guest - I-guest silent is the proper thing
        to do, don't say nothing to me, and I want say nothing to you.  
        But I break's the ice and reach for her  hand, she stubborni-
         ily pull-away and storms out of the room, I'm confuse and now I'm
        angry, "You men's just don't understand", is the response she say's
        to me, cann't talk to this stranger in my home, "but she's all along".
        I head-out the door for work, not to be such a jerk. I leave her a
        note to meet me after work. at a nice cozy lil restaurant secluded so
        we can talk. I arrive there first, then she walk's in looking so sexxy,
        my whole head spins, (she's) looking this good can not be a sin.
        We rap and we talk, this stranger (my wife) were once there were 
        danger of never seeing her again-now after a few drinks and the pro-
        blem becomes vaguily clear, we toast to communicating, and sometimes
        two people will not alway's agree on the same thing.  Touching each
        other's hands-looking into her eye's, she's wearing a very provocative
        dress that clearily has awaken this man. Talking is refreshing and I tell
        her, your perfume smells aahhh soooo--sweet, now at home we stop and
        began Kissing, and together we floats-on to heaven.  "With Wing's be-
        neath my feet's".

Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2010


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Obsessive Love

Press not to flaming lips your tepid kiss

Touch not this burning form with hands of ice

A lukewarm love can never bring to bliss

Nor will indifferent love for me suffice

 

Seek not with obligation to appease

Perfunctory in making love to me

Disdain is what I feel for “gifts” as these

Tis better far, my dear, to let me be

 

For if you not assess my heart aright

And think me one to faint with weak caress

You’ve not been seared by passion’s burning might

Nor tasted honeyed dreams that I undress

 

Hope not to bed me with halfhearted plea

With love obsessive, take a hold of me



Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Voyeur Moon

======================

The voyeur moon has promised she

will hide her light tonight and keep

it dark outside if we'll agree

to let her watch us while we sleep

======================

09/27/2015

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Shadow to Shadow Revised

=======================
Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
In youth the Eden where I played
was left bereft, destroyed, decayed,
by trusts malignant masquerade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Sweet grass dies in my fallow glade
as opportunist needs invade
and bleed the life from every blade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
First, victims surging song is brayed,
then dirges of the helpless fade
and urges pant their serenade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
Agendas I've arranged cascade
to keep my motives undisplayed
and cover cracks in my charade

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
I've planted with my soiled spade
slick seeds of doubt in hopes that they'd
conceal the putrid plots I've laid

Shadow to shadow, shade to shade
My blighted past will be replayed
and every bloom on whom I've preyed
must lie now in the beds I've made
=======================

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Flame

If sorrow cloaks the surface of your soul 
And chills the warmth that turns your wishes cold, 
Unchain the hidden anguish in your hold,
Releasing tethered truths that must be told. 

Your clever wisdom, once conceived as real, 
So blinded you to feelings kept concealed. 
Inducement starts when you at last repeal 
The law you self imposed, a false ideal. 

Beginning chapter one you sense a start. 
Ahead we veer, adjust and reembark. 
In time the doubts will pass, from our concern, 
Devotion grows in knowledge two must learn. 

A flaming passion, uncontrolled, will die.
Insightful ones will dodge the seering light.
The quantity is not where truth abides,
The quality is where forever lies.



Gene Bourne
08-15-14





.

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Contretemps


Angry acts begin. 
Harmful words would never flare, 
Count to ten then once again. 

Wildfire spreading fast, 
With mistaken, muddled acts. 
Smokey aftertaste will last. 

Then finessed assaults, 
Vainly exit, pride intact, 
Casting blame, the other's fault.

Friendships fall head-long, 
Disarrayed in stumbled steps. 
Puzzled reasons blurred then gone.  


Gene Bourne.
10-22-14




. 

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Moon Light Moon Night

We hold hands walking under the bright beam of God’s Moon Light,
And stop and kiss so intently in the soft cradle of the dark Moon Night.

The passion and rapture together we feel so on this cold black night,
Is reflected and majestically warmed by the touch of the Moon Light.

I look lovingly into your eyes on this quite special dark Moon Night,
Marveling at the love so reflected in your eyes by the Moon Light.  

This is an enchanted sight to behold by All who love the Moon Light, 
Reflecting the beauty and meaning while savoring all the Moon Night.

A deep Cosmic Blackness pervades the canvas of this great Moon Night,
While God’s grace and love pleasure us with a most bright Moon Light.

Almighty God in Heaven gently modulates the tone of this Moon Light,
Bringing constant wonder and glory to All on this most dark Moon Night. 

My love and I now understand the mystical meaning of this Moon Light,
As we ponder and hold so special God’s emotion felt on this Moon Night.  


Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(October 19, 2014) (Rhyme Couplet poetic format)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Crossed Me At The Borderline, Just In Time

-------------------------------------- ~*note: done in fun and aimed at no one~  



try and seed my name you'll concede to shame
no use in calling names to lose the game

yir' ill will is just plain disastrous 
asinine avatars deserve an asterisk

as for being fact-less, your slaps don't diss
every lick you spit simply tends to miss

harmless words that curse, rehearsed childishness
gets your face erased and they'll say who's next

as defilement arrives inside your text
that's when shame wheels you back, right to the nest.


~10 syllables in each of 10 rhyming lines~

Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

I Will Wait

I composed a song version of this poem with different lyrics but the same "beat".
When you see three "dots" ...  pause for a second.


All it took...
Was your hand caress my neck...
As you passed.

Or a word...
Of affection, not some play...
You were cast.

No gifts... to please,
No wants... appeased.
So few... the signs,
Your eyes... were mine.

We create...
What we wished was truly there...
When it's not.

No ones fault...
She can't be the fantasy...
You had sought.

True romance...
Only happens when 
Two hearts have
Joined as one...

Until then...
I will wait for 
Love to come. 


Gene Bourne
06-10-14



.

Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

My Window

I look at the sky
from my window;

I observe people
from my window;

I feel raindrops
from my window; 

I sense loneliness
from my window;

I think deeply gazing
from my window;

I cherish love
from my window;

I ponder eternity
from my window;

I sense the struggle of God and Lucifer
from my window;

I cry
from my window;

I yell
from my window;

I evoke emotion and rage 
from my window;

I am joyful and sad
from my window;

And — I see my soul
from my window.
	

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
September 26, 2014

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

BURIED IN WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING

       BURIED IN WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING (With apologies to Robert Frost)
Whose woods these are, mox nix to me,
both dead and buried, she must be,
to bother me, not one more time,
but sleep forever; endlessly.

Though thought of still, as perfect crime,
(it made my life a downhill climb,)
tis none the less, I must admit,
the joy of me, all of the time.

And smile I must, with thought of it,
the slicing of her throat a bit,
and struggling, oh! how she tried!
whilst I enjoyed her dying fit.

Her eyes now crossed, as if she spied,
her life and death on either side,
and so I gouged them both in fun,
for every time she ever lied!

She begged for mercy--there was none!
Her legs were dead, she couldn't run,
and with her throat cut, couldn't cry,
nor could I, whilst I had such fun!

Her pleas are still my lullaby,
I've lots of time to wonder why,
and years to go before I die.
and years to go before I die.
       by  © ron arbuthnot

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Parasite

==================================
The widow, dressed in glossy black,	
glides from the shadows at the back.	
A veil lies slack across her face	
to mask the grief her features lack.	

Possessed of an insectile grace,	
she sidles to the open case	
and like the reptile smile she bares,	
this too, serves to defile the place.	

Since jealousy insures she cares
less for his death than for her shares,
obsession next finds her engrossed
in leaving with the gold he wears.

A parasite, she'll man her post
and feed from this depleted host 
'til she believes she's bled the most
she can from his departed ghost.
==========================

Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

LOVE ME LOVE MY INK

LOVE ME LOVE MY INK

Did I make you happy?
Did I use my dexterity?
Did you fall in love?
Did you love the ink?
My hand is ready 
Tell me that  feeling
That Indescribable feeling 
Only the ink understands
Only the poet has the hands
Love me Love my ink

Copyright © CHRISDAD KOJO ARTHUR | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Many Lifetimes

Incarnations of many lifetimes
sweep before me...
Liberating my soul's chants 
As universal notes of music
Float on vibrant strands of color, 
Phasing purple, pure and light, 
In violet vibrations, swirls of
Incandescent glitter shimmers
Drawn by gravity in downward drifts.
Flaming candle's smoky essence 
Mixes with incense of sandalwood
In a wafting waltz of vertigo.
Past and present intertwine
Lacing love with pulsing pain.
Effervescent breath is shallowed
By visions from the living dead.




Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016


Details | Assonance Poem | |

The Rushing Storm

The Rushing Storm


Storm found my body gently at rest
it rushed in with an angry blast
Did its worst, then did its best
I had no time for it was too fast!

As the clouds smothered my views
the thunder rang upon my ears
Sad when we finally get our dues
yet such has to bring its tears!

Bold lightning stabbed the sorrows
each cutting sweet holding ties
Looking for far greater tomorrows
bed shaking where my body lies!

Nobody saw but this tale is true
bad sneaks upon us in such acts
When we may sleep without a clue
storm hits us with painful facts!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-10-2015

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

That Old Tree Was Loved

That Old Tree Was Loved
That old tree had weathered many storms past
Veteran of countless intense brush fires
Giant limbs still grew strong and very fast
Yet this summer, one can see where it tires.

Broken limb , dangling about thirty feet up
Huge hole burnt in deep by last big burn
Dried out looking for water from drought's cup
If it dies this year , so it was its turn.

Child of nine swung from its lofty branches
Climbing so very high for a huge thrill
Tree was life and we daring to take chances
To see farther, what lay over the next hill.

A picture of old and ancient life now gone.
Remembering, this heart again feels so alone!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-28-2015


Note- Yes this old tree existed on the farm . 
As a young child I marveled at its size and beauty. 
When I turned 45 years old I went back to see if it was still there.
 Only a huge stump remained.
For me as a child it was the greatest toy in world.........

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

What Bell Rings Out So Clearly For You

What Bell Rings Out So Clearly For You?

Hells bells, the ringing always carries on
Life be it beautifully great still endures
Ravages, we in this dark world, are cast upon
Temptations, great multitude of dark allures.
What bell rings out so clearly for you?

Massively sad are the long and crying bells
Peeling out that string of long blue notes
The ringing sends the message that tells
Nobody needs to send out words they wrote.
What bell rings out so clearly for you?

We may hear, not know for whom the bell tolls
Dire such bells ring in with a call to alarm
Such is how Fates streams in rushing flows
So unlike cow bells singing out on the farm.
What bell rings out so clearly for you?
 
For many happy events beautiful bells extol
Signal to join in the joy or meet to pray
This the sound that all God's children know
Calling out, walk calm in the Christian way
What bell rings out so clearly for you?

When loved one is sick, off goes alarm bells
Ringing in your mind like a dropping shoe
Then the call to prayer rushes and so impels
Miracles often brought if your faith is true!
What bell rings out so clearly to you?

Xxxxxx - X - XXXXXXX,   07-28-2015

Note- Written for Debbi Guzzi's contest

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Jerusalem expensive

Jerusalem expensive 

They took her by force and took it from under our feet They went out 
We love and we want, but their weapons in the Muslim Tortured us 
Cry day and night, and between their hands do not want to stay 
Notifies the sadness calls, every human being by a drop of blood Islam 
Youth killed aggression, and an orphanage in the streets of pain 
Children of security they want, and the Zionists speak the language of blood 
Responsible for watching the war, and organizations suspicion that they are incorrigible Peace 
They beat us and tortured us, and armed Dmrona and Okhavona 
Moved O Muslims, and all fighters Belongings 
What is the value of the life he leads Denied, and of belongings you ban 
Enough of humiliation and deadlock, Your cooperation to return You  
God is in favor of the right, what you just have to go ahead and fight 
O Muslim, there is no saddens blow ...... 
The higher the oppressor, Fall become more painful .......

Muslim proudly 



Author : Omar Hachmi 


http://creationsomarhachmi.blogspot.com/

Copyright © Omar Hachmi | Year Posted 2014


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Haiku

that crazy old quilt
she was piecing together
just before the stroke


Dave Austin

Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2016


Details | Assonance Poem | |

All The World Races Away , While I Pause

All The World Races Away , While I Pause

I will write yet again this sweet night,
cows need milking , the barn cleaning.
Sunny morn but this place is a sore sight,
critters need feeding, fence is leaning!

I will hold my thoughts until sunset,
a chore that allows me to still give.
Sure life is a gamble, a very sad bet
yet we must learn to love and let live!

Do not sorrow for my poor saddened cause,
there is gold in the clouds, a kiss awaits.
All the world races away , while I pause
to tempt her and curse the darker fates!

Standing on the precipice to now decide.
Does one rage on to live or race away to hide?

Robert J. Lindley, 07-16-2015

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

The Long Road To Her Heart

The Long Road To Her Heart


As I trample my sweat into reddened dust
walking down this long winding road I must
Seek her soothing heart laced with glee
ripened fruit hanging upon a fantasy tree!

Blowing petal to petal , heart to heart
welcoming breeze guides me from the start
Time holds no wonders that she can not give
paradise awaits with its glory as we Live!

Although the morn is long, the sun so hot
my life is wonderful knowing what I got
A treasure sent to hold me in my place
moonlit eyes upon her soft glowing face!

As I trample my sweat into reddened dust
walking down this long winding road I must
Seek her soothing heart laced with glee
ripened fruit hanging upon a fantasy tree!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-12 2015

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015


Details | Assonance Poem | |

Sight of Winter and Spring

The ice sheets on lakes are slowly thawing;
the sight resembles a glass separating
the water world from the dry world.

Green is gradually dominating the white
that covered the trees.

Snowmen are slowly disappearing,
melting away into the earth.

Icicles glitter like diamonds in the faint
sunlight, glowing in the midst of clouds.

Legends about snow monsters and snow people
are losing taste to children;
they want stories about mysteries
that spring carry with it.

Earth oozes with the scent of rebirth.

Easter bunnies are appearing everywhere
in the shops,
their Easter eggs surpassing chicken eggs
in numbers.

We are in Winter and Spring...




Date: 16/03/2016

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016