An albertine goodbye
a delicate petalled rose
flutters slowly from on high,
upon the green sward,to lie-
dying sans a sigh
Categories:
albertine, word play,
Form: Dodoitsu
in an albertine goodbye
a delicate petalled rose
dying sans a sigh-
flutters slowly from on high
to the green sward,to lie
Categories:
albertine, imagery,
Form: Imagism
An albertine goodbye
a delicate petalled rose
flutters slowly from on high,
upon the green sward,to lie-
dying sans a sigh
Categories:
albertine, marriage, poetry,
Form: Dodoitsu
a delicate petalled rose
flutters slowly from on high,
upon the green sward,to lie-
dying sans a sigh
Categories:
albertine, poetry, word play,
Form: Dodoitsu
An albertine goodbye
a delicate petalled rose
flutters slowly from on high,
upon the green sward,to lie-
dying without a sigh
Categories:
albertine, poverty,
Form: Didactic
an example from the hundreds of my tweetable poetry @Strandpoet on Twitter
DODOITSU-A ALBERTINE GOODBYE a delicate petalled rose/
flutters slowly from on high,/upon the green sward,to lie-/dying sans a sigh
Categories:
albertine, computer, poetry,
Form: Verse
An albertine goodbye
a delicate petalled rose
flutters slowly from on high,
upon the green sward,to lie-
dying sans a sigh
Categories:
albertine, assonance, death,
Form: Dodoitsu
Each day playing with a girl with hairdresser allure
I live in a blond poem of air, near the timid azure:
Counting the legs walking in the park of my spring,
I tell you sweet nothing, to exclaim: how interesting!
So, I play with the days laughing of me, in the rye:
Leggy girls drawing a shining horizon of their thigh.
In my cradle of wishful thinking, the fugitive Albertine
Escaped from Proust, still smiles in the same scene.
In which, I really am the catcher of each invented joy.
So, I play with the sun running the long clouds convoy.
And you keep your hand on my shoulder and smile,
Like only a sunny day knows: at distance of a mile,
Far away from the young tempest jumping the rope.
Some days borrowed the perfume of Miss Hope...
Categories:
albertine, art, beautiful, feelings,
Form: Carpe Diem
High in the mountains
Of the Albertine Rift
In the cloud forests
Another of natures gifts
Mountain and lowland
In the place they call home
Close to the Virunga Volcanoes
In their indigenous roam
Silver-back, black-back
The boys of this race
Who marshal their group
In pride of their place
Poaching, encroaching
In their neighbourhoods
Isn't it about time
We left their woods
Endangered they are
Its time to relate
We are barely their servants
The real King of the primates
" This poem is for Deborah Herber, and her love of the Gorilla "
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/nature3.php
Categories:
albertine, animals
Form: Rhyme