This is a thread for creativity, poetry. I like to challenge everyone to describe his character with a poem. All style is accepted!
Who dares? No one will be mocked!!
Lizbeth
Just a simple feral doe
Born of Angel and her beau
Maxwell misfortunately passed away
On that tragic unspoken day
Mishandled and broken she were
Baring life was taken from her
Still she found that way out
But with mind full of doubt
Now she lives so seclude
In peaceful interlude
Cherishing her little Eden
She regained just her own freedom
That deer emanating such tenderness
One can only say from her: She’s harmless
Always trying to wear her famous smile
If it is only for a little while
this thread is also inspired by an member artist that made Berhame Eclipse's Rap JackRabbit
we have here a 16 line poetry, divided in four stanzas of four lines (quatrains), free choice of syllabic number, rhyme pattern AABB, normally it's ten syllables (decasyllabic quatrain)
Who dares? No one will be mocked!!
With this thread it will be meant,
Not to give a normal trend
Thou will describe thy persona
With poetry under thy icona
Thou can use any stylish idea
But I want to ensure it’s clear
Do not trespass forum’s rate
It will only render unwished hate
Be creative to thy mind
Be gentle to other's kind
Be once a simple poet
But without being laureate
No reward, nor award will be given
This will only be by fun driven
Get thou head to be martyred
In this writing path so uncharted
Not to give a normal trend
Thou will describe thy persona
With poetry under thy icona
Thou can use any stylish idea
But I want to ensure it’s clear
Do not trespass forum’s rate
It will only render unwished hate
Be creative to thy mind
Be gentle to other's kind
Be once a simple poet
But without being laureate
No reward, nor award will be given
This will only be by fun driven
Get thou head to be martyred
In this writing path so uncharted
Lizbeth
Just a simple feral doe
Born of Angel and her beau
Maxwell misfortunately passed away
On that tragic unspoken day
Mishandled and broken she were
Baring life was taken from her
Still she found that way out
But with mind full of doubt
Now she lives so seclude
In peaceful interlude
Cherishing her little Eden
She regained just her own freedom
That deer emanating such tenderness
One can only say from her: She’s harmless
Always trying to wear her famous smile
If it is only for a little while
this thread is also inspired by an member artist that made Berhame Eclipse's Rap JackRabbit
we have here a 16 line poetry, divided in four stanzas of four lines (quatrains), free choice of syllabic number, rhyme pattern AABB, normally it's ten syllables (decasyllabic quatrain)
Well maybe this inspires someone:
Ballad of Max Force 🪓 🎶🎵
Horse of brought shoulder and thick grey mane
That drags trees as if they were small cane
Chestnut fur covers him
His hind hooves were not slim
Yet he stands like man in good maintain
Trees will fall
But not a doe
Trees will be logged
Deer will be snugged
Horse of a form that can be shifted
In feral animal form-lifted
Weight will more than double
On hooves he’ll just struggle
But his speech will not be ungifted
Trees are dead limb
Widow of no doe
Trees will be yarded
Deer will be guarded
Horse of boundless goodwill in his soul
Can have too much whiskey in his coal
But never will he harm
That is part of his charm
Always ready to help any foal
Trees are skidded
Not dragged a doe
Trees will go to buck
The doe is of great luck
Horse with such a good soul and great heart
Never will anyone tear her apart
That doe in the wood
Named Lizbeth Redwood
For him that deer is just pure poetry art
Trees are cut
Never the doe
Trees will be home
Lizbeth has such home
Ballad of a draft horse named Max, having quite much force, not only for trees, but also for a tender doe called Lizbeth, hope you enjoyed, four limericks alternate with refrains
Ballad of Max Force 🪓 🎶🎵
Horse of brought shoulder and thick grey mane
That drags trees as if they were small cane
Chestnut fur covers him
His hind hooves were not slim
Yet he stands like man in good maintain
Trees will fall
But not a doe
Trees will be logged
Deer will be snugged
Horse of a form that can be shifted
In feral animal form-lifted
Weight will more than double
On hooves he’ll just struggle
But his speech will not be ungifted
Trees are dead limb
Widow of no doe
Trees will be yarded
Deer will be guarded
Horse of boundless goodwill in his soul
Can have too much whiskey in his coal
But never will he harm
That is part of his charm
Always ready to help any foal
Trees are skidded
Not dragged a doe
Trees will go to buck
The doe is of great luck
Horse with such a good soul and great heart
Never will anyone tear her apart
That doe in the wood
Named Lizbeth Redwood
For him that deer is just pure poetry art
Trees are cut
Never the doe
Trees will be home
Lizbeth has such home
Ballad of a draft horse named Max, having quite much force, not only for trees, but also for a tender doe called Lizbeth, hope you enjoyed, four limericks alternate with refrains
What is destiny?
What is fate?
The old man returned to dust after many stories told,
many stories repeated,
and many left untold.
Born out of uncertainty,
born out of loneliness-
the perfect companion is created.
She arises.
With nothing to say
and nothing to do,
her path is erased and rewritten with abandon-
ever shifting.
Ever changing.
Faltering steps turn into an awkward gate.
She yearns for more.
Kingdoms rise.
Kingdoms fall.
None can stand against the hands of time,
and yet, she persists.
She resists the call from the earth.
Dust is not from whence she came.
Dust is not to which she can return.
Unknown origins.
Unwritten futures.
Time stretches on.
What is fate?
What is destiny?
Where does one find purpose?
A silent house buried in the woods.
Curiosity stirs
and something shimmers.
Hope.
Betrayal.
Love.
Abandonment.
Please!
If all are the same,
what more is there to learn
in this game that does not change?
What is fate?
The old man returned to dust after many stories told,
many stories repeated,
and many left untold.
Born out of uncertainty,
born out of loneliness-
the perfect companion is created.
She arises.
With nothing to say
and nothing to do,
her path is erased and rewritten with abandon-
ever shifting.
Ever changing.
Faltering steps turn into an awkward gate.
She yearns for more.
Kingdoms rise.
Kingdoms fall.
None can stand against the hands of time,
and yet, she persists.
She resists the call from the earth.
Dust is not from whence she came.
Dust is not to which she can return.
Unknown origins.
Unwritten futures.
Time stretches on.
What is fate?
What is destiny?
Where does one find purpose?
A silent house buried in the woods.
Curiosity stirs
and something shimmers.
Hope.
Betrayal.
Love.
Abandonment.
Please!
If all are the same,
what more is there to learn
in this game that does not change?
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