Ms.Bergmann Rhyme Time

ABAB ACAC Blue-Butterfly Day by: Robert Frost   It is blue-butterfly day here in spring, And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry There is more unmixed color on the wing Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry. But these are flowers that fly and all but sing: And now from having ridden out desire They lie closed over in the wind and cling Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire. From "New Hampshire", 1923 List all poems from "New Hampshire"

What does it look like? Blue-Butterfly Day by: Robert Frost   It is blue-butterfly day here in spring, And with these sky-flakes down in flurry on flurry There is more unmixed color on the wing Than flowers will show for days unless they hurry. But these are flowers that fly and all but sing: And now from having ridden out desire They lie closed over in the wind and cling Where wheels have freshly sliced the April mire.

AABCCB EEBFFB GGBHHB IJBKKB El Dorado by Edgar Allan Poe Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old, This knight so bold, And o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow; "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be, This land of Eldorado?" "Over the mountains Of the moon, Down the valley of the shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied,-- "If you seek for Eldorado!"

What does it look like? El Dorado by Edgar Allan Poe Gaily bedight, And, as his strength A gallant knight, Failed him at length, In sunshine and in shadow, He met a pilgrim shadow; Had journeyed long, "Shadow," said he, Singing a song, "Where can it be, In search of Eldorado.  This land of Eldorado?"  But he grew old, "Over the mountains This knight so bold, Of the moon, And o'er his heart a shadow Down the valley of the shadow, Fell as he found Ride, boldly ride," No spot of ground The shade replied,-- That looked like Eldorado.  "If you seek for Eldorado!"

AA BB CC DD THE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.   Gwendolyn Brooks     We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.

The Couplets THE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.     We real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June. We Die soon.

My Last Duchess By Robert Browning That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will 't please you sit and look at her? I said 'Frà Pandolf' by design, for never read Strangers like you that pictured countenance, The depth and passion of its earnest glance, But to myself they turned (since none puts by The curtain I have drawn for you, but I) And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst, How such a glance came there; so, not the first Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was not Her husband's presence only, called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps Frà Pandolf chanced to say, 'Her mantle laps Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint Must never hope to reproduce the faint Half-flush that dies along her throat:' such stuff Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough For calling up that spot of joy. She had A heart -- how shall I say? -- too soon made glad, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.

My Last Duchess By Robert Browning That's my last Duchess painted on the wall, Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was not Looking as if she were alive. I call Her husband's presence only, called that spot That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Frà Pandolf chanced to say, 'Her mantle laps Will 't please you sit and look at her? I said Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint 'Frà Pandolf' by design, for never read Must never hope to reproduce the faint Strangers like you that pictured countenance, Half-flush that dies along her throat:' such stuff The depth and passion of its earnest glance, Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough But to myself they turned (since none puts by For calling up that spot of joy. She had The curtain I have drawn for you, but I) A heart -- how shall I say? -- too soon made glad, And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst, Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er How such a glance came there; so, not the first She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.

AAAAAAA………. The bar at 4 per Gerald Thomas said, “That’s right your girl’s a whore.” We drunks looked over and then up for one more shot. Shattered teeth scattered the bar floor footsteps and frightened girls crowded the double doors, pushing one on top of another. The girlfriend or girl space friend came between them, pleading for the hole in her guy’s smile; they tore her away. I turned back and ordered another one more.

Notice the line breaks…. The bar at 4 per Gerald   Thomas said, “That’s right your girl’s a whore.” We drunks looked over and then up for one more shot. Shattered teeth scattered the bar floor footsteps and frightened girls crowded the double doors, pushing one on top of another. The girlfriend or girl space friend came between them, pleading for the hole in her guy’s smile; they tore her away. I turned back and ordered another one more.

Assonance In a Station of the Metro by Ezra Pound The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough.

In a Station of the Metro by Ezra Pound The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Petals on a wet, black bough.

What you don’t want…. A Love Song Let me sing you a love song About what I feel in my heart; Butterflies can't find nectar Whenever we're apart. You're a flower in bloom. In the dark, in the gloom, It's you who brightens my day. How many ways do I need you? Every day, every way, come what may. By Karl Fuchs

Why not???? A Love Song Let me sing you a love song About what I feel in my heart; Butterflies can't find nectar Whenever we're apart. You're a flower in bloom. In the dark, in the gloom, It's you who brightens my day. How many ways do I need you? Every day, every way, come what may. By Karl Fuchs Inconsistent Cliché Has anyone been given a card that contained this poem????? Hallmark

ASSIGNMENT!!!! You must create two poems with a specific rhyme scheme. 1. The first one has to end with the same sound. 2. The second one has to have a rhyme scheme you created. Both of these are due on Monday!