Recent content by Grannyjill

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    In the style of Samuel Rogers. c/c?

    Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)...........He wrote a poem called The Sleeping Beauty, and I copied his style and rhyme scheme....just to see if I could. The Sleeping Beauty Thy brow is smooth with innocence With blush of sleep upon thy cheek Proclaiming languid indolence, And cherub soul both...
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    In the style of Samuel Rogers. c/c?

    Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)...........He wrote a poem called The Sleeping Beauty, and I copied his style and rhyme scheme....just to see if I could. The Sleeping Beauty Thy brow is smooth with innocence With blush of sleep upon thy cheek Proclaiming languid indolence, And cherub soul both...
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    Set in concrete. Do you find this with your poetry?

    When you've owned a poem for ever and a day You cannot change a word of what you had to say. It may need a re-write to help it on its way As it suffers many defects. But it's no longer clay. It's a baked like concrete statue saying 'I am here to stay' When I receive suggestions from others on...
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    New challenge! For Ma! and all! Poetry section YA!?

    Advice to the Young Young Jim was a dashing pirate The envy of all his friends. He didn't sit at a school desk Playing so much 'Let's pretend' He really climbed the mizzen mast He swashed his buckle as well He held a cutlas in his teeth And mastered the ocean swell. He had no qualifications...
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    A Poem from a Young Poet :3?

    At a casual glance this sounds quite good,,,but, on deeper reading it doesn't make a great deal of sense. For example, the first line is very promising...., but what does 'deed of blood' mean and how can that change into a flame, and then into a masked heroine (subjected only to lust)...these...
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    A rant-like poem in response to a stupid answer?

    The world is full of critics who cannot write and in their spite they try to bring others down. I seem to be targetted by some idiot who thumbs down all those who respond to my postings. What a pointless exercise! Being on AY has given me an insight into humankind, this planet will never be...
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    Poets, does this happen to you?

    I built a poem in my sleep An edifice of marble, white. Each facet, surface, line perfectly defined, with gems that sparkled. So sublime it could have been God's not mine. It was glorious to behold a glance risked instant blindness. When I awoke in the cold, grey dawn it broke into a thousand...
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