Category Archives: Rhyming Poetry

Structured Rhyming Poetry

The Daydream

Clouds float today above the hay,

God’s handiwork so high above.

What skillful art could mend this heart,

or fill each beat with tender love.


Sweet natures bed to lay my head,

to draw each breath upon your chest.

What springtime joy could tame this boy,

and find this weary soul a rest.


Birds in their dance and perfect stance,

to give me peace and rest me slow.

Your beauty ought to still each thought,

ignite my spirit, watch me glow.

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Where To Go Now?

To Heaven or Hell to pick a fight.

To dance with the Devil in the pale moonlight.

To follow the red-haired Angels flight.

To tear the sea and land asunder.

To rain from Heaven – fire and thunder.

To live with the pirates, pillage, plunder.

Time and again the thankless task.

To choose a wife with furies flask.

So where to now I dare to ask?

Just a fun poem. Which one would you choose and why (accepting that for women it would be choose a husband).

The Ballad Of Christina and Divina

In a cottage near the hill,

past the stream, past the mill,

see her there waiting still,

the one they call Cristina.

Near the thorny beds of rose,

plucking weeds that skyward chose,

scented herbs under her nose,

the other called Davina.

 

Through the fields of golden rye,

comes a knight riding by,

with an errand from on high,

sees the young Cristina.

Through the lattice kneeling there,

near the rustic garden chair,

‘neath her long and flowing hair,

the lady named Davina.

 

Continue reading The Ballad Of Christina and Divina

Willows Journey

Willow on the hillside steep,

Night time brings the stars a-peep

I alone without her weep,

The lady Gabriella strayed.

Two sunsets and never sighted,

maybe taken wing and flighted,

or fallen ill and deadly plighted?

The lady Gabriella strayed.

 

Grateful for the weeping tree,

The Creator did provide for me,

so lay me down and let me see,

Where has my Gabriella laid?

On the path she ought have stepped,

now drifted off and wayward slept,

engagement  ‘neath willow not kept,

Where has my Gabriella laid?

Continue reading Willows Journey

It

From the day it came to be,

life was traded, given free,

knew it not – what is me?

Spared no joy or warmth or mirth.

Given up as skin and bone,

born to walk the world alone,

empty soul and heart of stone.

Spared no time or date of birth.

 

Wander freely through the air,

caught too soon, beaten bare,

now a blank and empty stare.

Spared no love or counterpart.

Sold as ragged human waste,

cut off from cherub and the chaste,

torture, dread, abandon, faced.

Spared no food and torn apart.

Continue reading It