limerick, free verse
concrete, lyric &

Jay, Pake, and Trevor

Limerick poem

This is a limerick,

Written with aid of a stick

Although, limericks are supposed to be poetry,
So, I suppose this really just quirky.
By the way, this is a limerick.

Free verse poem

The Sunshine shines its rays up into the sky,
The Sunshine, beautiful and high.
The Sunshine, letting light into the world,
The Sunshine, what tells us is day and shines till 12.
The Sunshine, a prosperous shine, lighting the world.

Concrete poem

No beauty in concrete
As beauty
Is abstract

Is abstract
As beauty
No beauty in concrete

Lyric poem

Thy melody and my lyrics
will make a song
a melodious song
the song of enthusiasm
the song of peace
the song of fraternity

If my lyrics is a flower
thy melody is thee fragrance

If my lyrics is a ray
thy melody is thee light

If my lyrics is cloud
thy melody is thee lightning

my lyrics is a cascade
thy melody is thee sound

my lyrics and thee melody
is the consistency of profound nature
having multi seasons
to nourish all creature
to embellish the earth
whispering the gale
to blow like spring

my lyrics is nectar
thee melody is sweetness

my lyrics and thee melody
will make a song of heaven.

Ballad poem

And from the graves, where names were carved in

stone, came a mournful Ballad, of life gone by.

A Ballad sang by mothers, whose children left behind,
and left to sing their ballads, of tears that did remain.

And what of Fathers Ballad, whose job was not complete,
who died and sang his song, of things that could not be.

In a smaller voices, still weeping and confused, the children
sang their Ballad, of parents never knew.

And in some far off place, a Ballad did come fourth, of all
the deaths that happened, that wasn't meant to be.

A soldiers painful Ballad, did seemed so unjust, of the
war that finally killed him, in a land he never knew.

The Ballad, of unknown, thou human, none the less,
were buried here alone, with not a one to care.

In the quiet of a cemetery morn, the Ballad of
the dead, echoes silently across green grass,
and through the granite stones.

It makes one wonder, about the Ballad of the dead,
and what will be our song...when we are finally gone.

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