I have always enjoyed writing poems, and I knew a lot about the “art” of writing poetry, but I did learn tons of new poetry terms and styles of writing poetry. Sometimes I believe I should write poems every day, because right now I’m a little rusty and I think I could improve on some things, such as my rhyming or rhythm. Although I know I have a lot to improve on, I think my writing is stronger than it used to be. After all, things can only improve with practice. I’m sure many of people in the world don’t enjoy poetry, and I know for a fact that a lot of people in my English class don’t like writing poetry. But I, for one, like reading it and writing it. Well, if I’m going to write a poem I need to be in the right mood. And I think writing poems more often helps me expand that mood. I loved this poetry section and I can’t wait for next year.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
A lovely short poem.
My dad gave me one dollar bill
Cause I’m his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
Cause two is more than one!
And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes — I guess he don’t know
That three is more than two!
Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just ’cause he can’t see
He gave me four nickles for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!
And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!
And then I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head–
Too proud of me to speak!
(Verbal irony, sarcasm, dramatic irony, irony)
“At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,
Exhales from out her golden rim,
And, softly dripping, drop by drop,
Upon the quiet mountain top,
Steals drowsily and musically
Into the universal valley.”
singing songs of:
Spring’s buds stringing along mine
Spring’s wisp aches for;
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats.