Poetry competition CLOSED 28th October 2011 7:11am
WINNER
Kameron
Kameron
A Poem Of Poetry
Poetry Contest Description
Write a short poem about what poetry means to you, what it is, what it could be, etc...
Your poem must be exactly four lines long.
The word 'Poetry' must be the first word of the first line.
Other than that, you're free as a bird. Enjoy :D
The word 'Poetry' must be the first word of the first line.
Other than that, you're free as a bird. Enjoy :D
Anonymous
Poetry is beauty;
blown glass iridescence
hung from aged branches,
catching the sun between heartaches.
blown glass iridescence
hung from aged branches,
catching the sun between heartaches.
Aish, that's damned gorgeous.
Poetry is a voice upon the wind, bringing warmth and depth from elsewhere spires.
The cloak and gloves of those brave enough to attempt to capture the dragon of inner fires
The bed of morning suns, optimisms and surprises,
a lover's abode most gilded with sentiment and admiration
Poetry is a voice upon the wind, bringing warmth and depth from elsewhere spires.
The cloak and gloves of those brave enough to attempt to capture the dragon of inner fires
The bed of morning suns, optimisms and surprises,
a lover's abode most gilded with sentiment and admiration
Anonymous
Poetry is a rolling, turbulent, flash flood of a river,
hell bent on inundating everything in its path.
Sweeping away innocence, undermining strong foundations.
Receding, its waterline stain remains to remind.
hell bent on inundating everything in its path.
Sweeping away innocence, undermining strong foundations.
Receding, its waterline stain remains to remind.
Poetry is how I feel.
Even dreams written about through me are forever real.
If I sit or stand starving with no guides it feeds me a lasting inner meal.
To get away from everything a way to escape in a more healthy way.
Thoughts come out before crammed inside this rare steaming head.
Alot to talk about also alot to say.
Even when life treats you good this is still my way.
Even dreams written about through me are forever real.
If I sit or stand starving with no guides it feeds me a lasting inner meal.
To get away from everything a way to escape in a more healthy way.
Thoughts come out before crammed inside this rare steaming head.
Alot to talk about also alot to say.
Even when life treats you good this is still my way.
