Freddy Frog flipped hopped on
punned to pond on and on
No more sudden leap to milk-moon
Broken limbs and ache moist June
Freddy Frog's fantasies now fanatics, fun
The Lone Ranger and Tonto strode into saloon
To get out of the sun and heat of the noon
They stood at the bar; their thirst the beer quenching
When through the doors came a cowboy crashing
He asked in a puff ‘Whose white horse is outside?
He’s down on his back and it looks like he’s died”
“That sure sounds like Silver”, Tonto replied
The three rushed outside to find horse belly up
The Lone Ranger poured water in mouth from tin cup
Poor Silver just lay there and sighed with a wheeze
“Could you run round in circles and stir up a breeze”?
Said the Ranger to Tonto and pleaded with “Please”?
Silver perked up when the draft round him rose
“Looks like his death was mis-diagnosed”
The Lone Ranger returned to finish his beer
As a cowboy burst in wearing old dusty gear
Inquiring about horse his intent was too clear
“What’s wrong with him now”? not wanting to hear
The cowboy spoke up and said “Nothing” with cunning
“But I think you left your Injun running”
He can't stop rhyming.
His mind races in cadence and timing.
Writing muses from within,
In both darkness and light, they begin.
Put to paper, in one pen stroke,
No force edits, and none of the hoke.
Modernists may very well blaspheme,
Believing they write, in deeper theme.
Cluttered words, and punctuation on a page,
As if contortion, should serve as the gauge.
A rhyme might accidentally appear,
but only in likeness, feeling quite 'impure'.
A well-known Frosted poet, left readers stunned;
This poem's title may find you, unknowingly punned.
This Flake will write, as his mind dances,
Until proven otherwise, he'll take his chances.
7/26/2017
Relatively new to PS, this first poem tried to poke fun at modernism. I grew up with poems that rhymed. I was surprised by the number of free verse poems and their popularity. Being on PS has allowed me to broaden my idea of poetry. I've learned that Free verse is universal, while rhyming is limited by dialect. The best lesson I've learned is that less is often more. It is surprising how a three, line 20 word poem can say so much. I'm still a rhyming addict...