Personal Sound and Form Poems 11/12

(Imitating "the Eagle")

From above he throws down each ball,

and watches as each hits the wall,

one by one each of the balls fall.

The balls that fall they do not stall,

in fact they never slow at all,

and like the boy they all stand tall.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Poem

What's up? The ground.

My life's been upside down.

Try to smile, but I frown

Night's sun,

Count down from one,

Then I'm done

Poem

I'm walking down the path of life
I feel the chilling winds of strife
I taste the bitter pill of pain
Sometimes I feel I'm going insane
I call for help but no one hears
Have they no heart, or even ears?
I look for you, but you're not there
I think I've searched most everywhere
Are you there? Can you be found?
Or are you no longer around?
I need your help, I need a friend
I need someone a hand to lend
You must be near I smell perfume
The one you left inside my room
So pleasant and so very sweet
Always a delightful treat
I'm already feeling a tinge of hope
I think I'll throw away that rope
I'm no quitter, I am strong
God gave me life, I'll live it long
I'll get through this, I have before
It's not time to slam the door
I live. I love. I laugh. I'm free.
I feel. I hope. I am. Join me.

Spring (imitating The eagle)

As the year goes on we enter spring,

Oh what fun the Season will bring.

Together we listen to the birds sing.

Nature is now in full swing.

We want it to stay this way forever more,

Always being able to go to the shore.

Sweat pours from our every pore.

Now returns the cold weather from before,

Winter truly is a bore.

Personal sound and form poem

A brutal catastrophe drops,
even fate.
gruesome.
hate irates.
Join?
Kind?
lover?
mother?
niece?
other?
people question.
response?
sincere.
tears unveiled.
vanished.
X= your z.

Imagery Chart Sensory Detail Poem

"Meeting at Night"
By: Robert Browning


The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startle little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cave with pushing prow,
And quench it's speed I the slushy land.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
than the two hearts beating each to each.