I grew up reading Shel Silverstein poetry, but was introduced later, to Emily Dickenson's poetry. She is a great poet and has many details that you can picture what she is writing about in your head. One of my favorite poems by Emily is who are you. I have two of her books, a child's poetry book by her, and a more longer version of collected poems by Emily Dickenson.
A picture of a stallion that i happened to be glancing at the moment that i was writing, inspired me to write this poem. I know this does not rhyme very well, not all poetry does. There are many different types of poems such as non rhyming ones such as this, haiku's, and songs are also a type of poetry.
He stood there, as he stood there basking in the moonlight, his mane flowing beautifully in the wind, him watching from afar, was sorrow filled, as it was the last time he would see his dear friend, his coat shimmered and sparkled like polished gold. The moon casted his dark silhouette across the tree lined plain. He turned his head as if saying goodbye for the last time , before silently racing off. He stood frozen in time, hesitant to go, but finally went, he was to move on, but in that moment, his heart was left.
The first last snowfallAs the snow falls, softly to the ground, all asleep safe and sound, all but one that is. He crawls back into bed to lie down his little head. When morning comes, so does cheer, it is the first snowfall of the year! It is just in time, Christmas Eve, the white outside is a snowy sea. Let's all go and enjoy the scene, because come Christmas night, comes the dreadful light.
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The MeltingAll that remains ia a carrot left in the center of a small puddle, as the girls cry, their brother's comfort them and cuddle. Everything is lost and gone, the brothers' try to keep their sister's calm. The wet concrete, is his bed, poor sweet Frosty, he is dead.
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