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Best Assonance Poems

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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

More great poems below...

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

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 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 with my crafted Yucca stick
a friend made for me. 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 



Copyright © James Marshall Goff

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

Details | Assonance Poem | |


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


Copyright © Gene Bourne

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

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

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

Details | Assonance Poem | |


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.


Copyright © Gene Bourne

Details | Assonance Poem | |



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


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

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



Copyright © Lycia Harding

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

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


Copyright © Gene Bourne

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

Details | Assonance Poem | |


       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

Details | Assonance Poem | |

Stems - A Greater Harvest

The tags are labels placed on a table.
Beginning with A and ending with Z, the labels placed on the table enables me to readings.
I defeated being judgmental and did not become analytic.
My mind is a schema.

The stems are roots ending.
Argumentative are the colors exploding.
White becomes mixed and black is a misted.
Meaning is that both are within an element.

The bags that I carry appear to be heavy but they are not.
They are held many ways so that my arms will not tire.
I walk with a slight lean to my shoulder because my purse must strap.
I arch upright like a cat.

The stems rooted and garlic is scape.
The railroad track is the shortcut we take.
The blood is enriched and the heart strengthens.
Once grown, he knows life ascertains.

Pulling back the curtains, he views the beautiful garden planted by his beloved mother.
The clothes in this bag I will wash completing my chores for today.
Once done, I will leave to find something to enhance my life.
I feel agitated and I must relax.

Tomorrow will be one of the best days in time.
The stem is a broken root.
It uses or loses its route to new growth.
The knowledge it provides is wisdom to the planter.

                                   The stem asks the question of why did this happen.

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Assonance Poem | |


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

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

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

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

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

Details | Assonance Poem | |

Forested Serenity- Sonnet 1

Forested Serenity- Sonnet 1
Deep in the dark woods a campfire glows,
overhead moon and stars race in shows.
Owl hoots out its short mating call,
Nature's glory and its beauty thrills all.

Woodsman enjoying his solitary retreat,
fire burning, his dog resting at his feet.
Just approaching midnight- the quiet hour,
light rain tinkles down in a cool shower.

Far away a panther lets loose angry call,
just announced its great power is all.
Overhead the owl flies out to get a meal,
so silently deadly, so easily makes a kill.

Woodsman muses, "Ain't this the life."
Me this damn happy, even without a wife!

Robert J. Lindley
November 18, 1977

Note- An old sonnet from my stored
private writes.So very long ago but I 
can still remember the late night whiskey
drinking when writing this one! 
This sprang from my reading Emerson 
and Poe that night(from old footnote).
Strange that it was not a dark poem! 
Perhaps Emerson won out.

Now is this poem(SHOWN BELOW) better after I edited to meet proper sonnet syllable count?
I think it is not myself. Which is why I often ignore the ten syllable count in my

Forested Serenity- Sonnet 1-  (edited version to meet the ten syllable count)

Deep in the dark woods a campfire glowing,
overhead moon and stars race on showing.
Owl now hooting out its short mating call,
Nature's glory and its beauty thrills all.

Enjoying this solitary retreat,
fire burning,dog resting at his feet.
Just approaching midnight- the quiet hour,
light rain tinkles down in a cool shower.

Far away panther lets loose angry call,
just announcing its great power is all.
Overhead owl flies out to get a meal,
silent, deadly so easily makes a kill.

Woodsman muses, "Ain't this the greatest life."
Me this happy, even without a wife!

Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line:
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	96


Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Assonance Poem | |

The Student

Buzz, Buzz,
still tiered eyes open,
She walks down stairs, packs up, and gets on the bus,
She stares out the window wishing to spend the day there and not at a desk.
7 FULL HOURS of of unempathetic teachers,
they give her 6 more hours of school work to do at home.
No one cares!

The homework starts on the bus and she's lucky to have it done by 10PM. 
Finely, she gets to go to bed,
But all she does is stare at the sealing with the overhanging stress of the work she didn't finish combined with the work her unrelenting teachers will give her tomorrow.

It happens each day,  
It's beyond her control,
she tells teachers and friends but they spit in her face telling her they don't care.
It won't change.

Luckily, she has her head on strait,
and while she trudges through the mud she stays strong,
knowing that everything is going to work out.
So she tells herself just wait.

Copyright © Emma H

Details | Assonance Poem | |

So Are You

Like a rose in the shade of a tree,
So are you as you stand beside me;
You are lovely and breathe purity:
I your shade and protection will be.

Like a shell on the sand of the sea,
So are you as you will trustingly
Seek support and direction from me,
Adding color and grace charmingly.

As cathedral stained windows shine bright,
So are you as unique in my sight;
And you shed on each person the light
That shines through you by doing what's right.

As the stars shine like gems in the night,
So are you my unending delight,
When my eye to your eye locks in sight,
And my heart to your heart will unite.

Like the crystals of sparkling snow
Virgin white in the winter winds blow
Yet in rainbows reflecting the glow
Of the sun, so are you- this I know.

Like the rings in the water that grow
On the lake when out boating we go,
And the oars spread them out while I row,
So are you when my heart's filled with woe;
You reach into my heart way down low
And your touch spreads like rings down below;
So are you, this is you- this I know.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst