Four Lines
I like words’ sound more than meaning, but quatrains are not just rhythms. Poetry’s sense shines through prisms, split light makes colors for yearning. -Lynne
I like words’ sound more than meaning, but quatrains are not just rhythms. Poetry’s sense shines through prisms, split light makes colors for yearning. -Lynne
The fourth line’s “murdered” changed the rhyme and moved the meaning fast forward. What lines am I moving toward, with more regard for sound than time? -Lynne
The un-sweet iced tea I ordered, was too bitter for a burger. These lines are boring this herder, change lanes use the near rhyme “murdered.” -Lynne
The local cafe played with beans, imported froth and scalded skim. Doubled the cost from mug to brim, still we love our coffee machines. -Lynne
Leaving me bored, lists of lattes slow down the lines and make me late. It’s a lottery ticket wait, played at the local drinks cafe. -Lynne
A new morning I’m ready for, a diet coke is my caffeine. Being no fan of coffee beans, the lists of lattes leave me bored. -Lynne
Don’t be quaint whatever you do, poems are to be read, not used. Maybe they should leave you amused and ready for a morning new. -Lynne
Palettes of words are poets’ paint, muddle them, mix them, add water. Run them through you and your daughter, whatever you do, don’t be quaint. -Lynne
Sparkling in time all words’ facets, phonemes and vowels spread glory. Yet still they carry their story, words are poets’ paint on palettes. -Lynne
Within my stock I plunder rhymes, mulling over the lines and rules. Four lines need to shine like jewels, all words’ facets sparkling in time. -Lynne
