Dice would like a piece of it all,
quickly you rise and then you fall.
Take a chance on a treasure chest,
riding by all would be impressed.
Each move requires a decision,
investments made with precision.
It’s life’s path to maintain control,
a potential win with each roll.
Get tripped up but you’re still trying,
selling things fast to keep buying.
Everything can change instantly,
there’s so much to Monopoly.
Fairly simple game I suppose,
we are all just hungry hippos.
Hard wood dusted by glitter bombs
picking flowers a new breed comes.
Clean explosion of pink sparkles
lands all over dancing circles.
Petals with roots of vinyl boots,
urban dresses, and old school suits.
Double decades let’s mix ‘em up,
pour a vibe straight into that cup.
That stash of decaying perfume
fertilizes this mongrel bloom.
The freshy will always vanquish,
loud as hell spouting old anguish.
Nothing rallies a flimsy cause,
so we take control as outlaws.
Skipping a step brings an impasse,
you must have passed a master class.
Much more tricky than it appears,
fail at it and you’re brought to tears.
That’s what makes it so appealing
to hear the quatrains you’re dealing.
Picked like you hold a royal flush,
each sonnet is making me blush.
That rich taste of your dialect
it’s like this hidden box is checked.
Touching each hand in the same spot,
each previous thought? I forgot.
Captured by cadence my soul climbs.
Please, simply talk to me in rhymes.
Contours make a fool of your eyes,
shadows smile wearing a disguise.
Split-second metamorphosis,
too quick to ever reminisce.
That alabaster train floating,
the gal with her sweetheart doting.
What was it I thought I just saw?
Blink and miss nature in the raw.
Paint-drops on the world around us,
broken polish will cause a fuss.
Shivering when they juxtapose,
a mirage of silhouettes grows.
With the Earth’s rotating vision
blurry lines find their precision.
A kitty’s soft purr
endearing murmur;
Happiness so pure
leads me to grin;
That very slow blink,
perfect nose so pink;
My trusty sidekick
knows how to win;
You sleep beside me
lounging lazily
or run playfully;
It doesn’t cease;
Lo fi existence,
no knowledge of tense;
Fun’s bound to commence,
cats rhyme with peace.
Suffering as a kid in school taught
him great lesson of life. What he ought
to do is to learn well to score best
amongst all mates in the school class test.
Despite all odds, he scored highest marks.
Instantly, he was marked through his works.
That gave impetus, never looked back
he continued to excel on track.
Boys envied but he never bothered,
Ill efforts of mates never conquered.
Probably, he rightly understood
and followed even in adulthood.
No place in life for the average.
Use sincerity for leverage.
Rest of life either remain happy
being an average, feel crappy.
Accept distaste, neglects, disrespect
or reach level being so perfect
focused with sheer sincerity and
hard work to reach height, what makes them stunned.
~x~x~
Each line is composed of two Anapaest metres and a final Spondee metre.
Come to me and put thine sweet eyes
on this note that thus came, e’en tries
to put slander within my mind
of the old and bad trite stale kind.
What false lines do impinge thy name
for such claims do, love, make thee blame
in the splitting of so great pair,
the well known Lord and Lady Blare.
Such words I will not yea believe
since without gens how they deceive.
The hot fire of this flame’s flambeau
will burn scurrilous page I know.
Then with glaive on this pole I’ll take
their head clean off for they name’s sake.
Where Lud gave wing, Blessed Bran doth sing
true oracle the visions bring,
from midnight’s land, bear burning brand
the Queens of old, gift Druid hand.
Shadow depth seek, sharp sable beak,
pierce psyche veils when prophets speak,
messenger calls through ancient halls
where Raven reigns the Tower walls.
Fey healer fly, the night-world sky
initiate Ovates nigh,
beckoning deep, iconic keep,
hark Raven calls to dreamless sleep.
Where Lud gave wing Blessed Bran doth sing
true oracle the visions bring,
from midnight’s land, bear burning brand
the Queens of old gift Druid hand,
the Queens of old gift Druid hand.
The distant calls from long ago
thy sacred name a faint echo
in darkness cast the circle light
I feel thy presence glowing bright.
As is thy will I greet my queen
and thank thee for all I've seen
thy guardians watching over me
my work is done to honour thee.
Thou blesséd Queen, mother of all
O Cerridwen I hear thy call.
While on thy words I meditate
and in thy will I supplicate
thy powers of the dark and light
by sacred oath and holy rite
in divine love and perfect trust
I know thy will, I know I must
obey thy word to feel thy grace
in all I do within this place
please hold my hand if I should fall
O Cerridwen I hear thy call.
As is thy will, so it shall be
and in thy love, so mote it be!
)O( blesséd be )O(
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.