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Editing - rough draft

Come Tomorrow... (Rhyme Patterns Workshop)

Yesteryear, now all we own,
The year has newly turned;
The months, the seasons, now outgrown,
Are cast aside and burned,
As December is adjourned.

Auld Lang Syne and midnight handshakes
Wave a fond farewell;
Icicles and frosty snowflakes
Cast their wintry spell
With midnight's dulcet bell.

But midnight is the witching hour
Anno domini;
As it strikes it holds the power
To bid our year goodbye
And concede the year must die.

Blind Child (Rhyming Pattern Workshop ABAB)

Can she feel the radiance of a tree
When the sun is shining bright?
Hear the buzz, but not hear the bee
Does she see any sort of light?

Spirits filled amongst those who see
Can she touch her own sweet joy?
Accept her life, be happy to be
Though she does not see the boy

Sometimes, I think that she's blessed
Not to witness all that's bad
But on days that the sunshines it's best
I could give her my eyes and be glad

Artificial Emotion

In the altogether, breath of aether
Bound together, strips of leather
The tether, as light as a feather
Feeling the heather, slightly nether

Harmonious consistance, of resistance
Fulfilling assistance, to our existence
Craving coexistence, reality subsistence
Now the distance, is non existence

Giving our soul, the chance to controle
Always extol, every loss of control
Reaching a goal, as our bodies unroll
Low and behold, there's nothing to withhold

Lip Me If You Will

You speak of
Quality
its like the taste on one's lips
always tastes differently
even with the same pair
or
another one
just to compare
men
are always hungry
women
love to cook different curry
so of
Quality
don't worry
all skip me in a quicker hurry
as all of you will

come lip me still

LITTLE AL

Alphonso won't be here today
to toss a ball come recess time
or run some wacky football play
while rapping some old TuPac rhyme

Alphonso won't be here today
in his desk come history class
his nervous legs won't twitch or sway
he won't give his teacher sass

His many places where he went
won't feel the tread of his big feet.
Someone older Had to vent.
Al's story ends now incomplete.

A frog leaped on a floating leaf
When on its downstream drift.
In and out of reeded reef
As placid currents shift.

Observing all things in his view
Through popping, bulging eyes,
Taking in a snack or two
By swatting flitting flies.

The river bank went ambling past
Quite slowly, so it seemed.
The frog, upon the leaf, at last,
Just drifted off and dreamed.

Lulled by splashy, rippled rings
That swirled and twirled him round,
He dreamt of calm and tranquil things
As blandly homeward bound.

Rain

When it rains,
it puddles.
When it pours,
it floods.

When I shed a tear,
I crumble.
When i shed more tears,
I fall.

When a puddle dries up,
a little flower can bloom.
When a flood dries up,
the whole world can resume.

After I cry,
I feel like i can fly.
After I breakdown,
I have a choice to stay down,
pick myself back up.

I Wept For Thee (Rhyme Pattern Shop)

I wept all day, my love is gone,
She went away and tarried none;
It teared my eyes as daylight broke
With no goodbyes, she never spoke.

As the daylight lits the land
In the daybright here I stand
And all alone I wept for she
As on my own I think of thee.

Then as the day comes to its end
I think and pray my heart will mend.
But think, I should, why I cry for?
She's gone for good! I weep no more.

SHOWTIME( rhyme patterns workshop)

Edited poem

As the evening sun lays his head
Onto sweet summer nights bed
The moon she rises up once more
The Stars they twinkle and just adore

A meteor strikes through the sky
Lighting up, much like a fire fly
Once more the moon, her head will tilt
And sun will rise from nightimes quilt

Showtime is Mother Nature’s twist
Sun and Moon, are sky's great gift
Of course, they share the same stage
Yet, never on the same page.

original copy

POET'S DESPAIR

These are mere words
they will not vibrate the air
then throb within your stomach's pit
...like music will

These words...
Won't reflect the summer's light
then burn an image into your mind
...like painting does

These words....
will not be touched or caressed
by finger tips and eyes
like sculpture can

These words....
are just ....words.
but on occasion
once in a great while
they Might by chance become
something more
than mere
.........words

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