dark woods bright meadow almost home
Life is hard, it
Gives us depth, and
From the depth, comes
Our gentleness.
high noise level from planet Earth
wind blowing
sun shining
phone charging
over roar of the storm- a prayer was heard
Not another limerick verse
I swear it must be a curse
Don't call the poem cop
I give up I'll stop
Because they keep getting worse
I don't want to lose my memory
that's where all my friends are
She gave from the garden tended with care
He gave his time was little to spare
They gave thanks for all they could share
the robot sneezed
God bless said I
dirty hands and suntanned neck
green beans tomatoes and melons
she loves her garden and so do I
wind gust blew winter away
seed corn hats in little cafe
my road trip
three mile long trains
miles and miles of trucks
and a car breakdown
home sweet home
I got old
memories and ghosts
did not age
the look in her eyes
she was lost I could see it
she still held my hand
closed curtains
morning grey peeking
door closing
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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.