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Poetry project

Poetry project . By: Sarah Launius. A Red, Red Rose. O my Love’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June: simile, comparing love and a rose O my Love’s like the melodie That’s sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

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Poetry project

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  1. Poetry project By: Sarah Launius

  2. A Red, Red Rose O my Love’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June: simile, comparing love and a rose O my Love’s like the melodie That’s sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I: And I will love thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear While the sands o’ life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only love, And fare thee weel, awile! And I will come again, my love Tho’ it ware ten thousand mile!

  3. Metaphor for a Family My family lives inside a medicine chest: Dad is the super-size band aid, strong and powerfulbut not always effective in a crisis. Metaphor, comparing dad and band aidMom is the middle-size tweezer,which picks and pokes and pinches.David is the single small aspirin on the third shelf,sometimes ignored.Muffin, the sheep dog, is a round cotton ball, stained and dirty, that pops off the shelf and bounces in my way as I open the door.And I am the wood and glue which hold us all together with love.

  4. Daddy’s Gone a Hunting Bye, baby bunting, alliteration,Daddy's gone a - hunting,Gone to get a rabbit skinTo wrap baby bunting in.

  5. Snow Snow speaks to the people itsfalling above in the glooming sunlight.Its white sparkling voiceechoes as it falls throughthe air.

  6. Rain The rain is falling all aroundIt falls on field and tree, It rains on the umbrellas here,And on the ships at sea.

  7. The Olympic Runner The sun beat down so hard it burnt his back,His feet ate the dust as he ran the endless track,The wind gave him wings and the miles flew by,He was gunning for gold, for victory he’d die.Critics had a field day when he entered the arena,They could have knocked him down with a feather,“Sideways you can’t see him through a 50-cent coin,Bones on a cold carcass make up his manly loin.” “His feet so long he will surely fall flat on his face,Legs stretch down like two bamboo poles in place,From the land of famine he gets not his daily bread,If he wins, we’ll eat our hats,” in mockery they said.As he touched the finish line, the crowd went wild,Cheers heard across the land by every man and child,His heartbeats so erratic they were beating out of timeIf he could take a shot at his critics it’d be no crime.Sweat streamed down, pooled like rivulets on the floor,A warrior back from the battlefield, battered and sore,Standing tall as a Brobdingnagian, the anthem sungThe joy so sweet, he could taste it on his tongue.He was so tired he felt he could sleep for a yearThe cynics struck dumb, had no cause to jeer,‘A man in a million’ was the headlines that day“Not a mere man but a giant in spirit,” they say.

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