My first year class were given the following assignment recently. Write a poem on any theme that doesn’t rhyme. Here are some examples. The first is one that breaks the rule as an introduction to the poems. Enjoy!
It Has to Rhyme!
Writing a poem that doesn’t rhyme
Is like committing the biggest crime
How can I learn to write
When my choices of words are apparently not right?
It’s driving me crazy
And I’m feeling kind of hazy
I just can’t write a no rhymes poem
So I might as well go home
The teacher says I shouldn’t
But if I could I wouldn’t
I’d rather make it rhyme
Otherwise you’re wasting my time
I’m very sorry for not following the rules
But this exercise is made for fools!
By Deryn Mooney
A Friend to All
She stood alone; A grand old tree,
Amid the meadow’s summer’s day,
The birds still perched upon her dying arms
Embraced like always, protectively,
Chirping proudly as summer passes
As winter is drawing near,
Weather changing, time racing
Life as we know it renewed.
Her fruit long gone, her prime well passed
Life is like a precious gift.
As rings appear, the winter nears.
As days pass by we say farewell
To generations, a serving friend.
By Kate Hannon
Lent is a time that comes around every year,
It lasts for forty days and forty nights.
You have to give something up,
Something you love a lot like
Sticky sweets, custard creams, crunchy cookies
And things like that.
When you go into a shop
It’s like what you gave up is calling your name
Or jumping off the shelf to go to you
Like a dog when he wants to say hello.
You start to realise how much you miss it
And forty days and forty nights seem
A whole lot longer.
By Victoria Traynor
As the stars close in
The moon at its brightest
A gorgeous pearlescent white
I know my favourite time of day
And it’s not at day, it’s at night.
There’s an eerie chill
On the moonlit ground
Frightening hooting owls
The sky is as black as coal
Only with sprinkles of glitter
Children say their prayers
Then all get into bed
Where their eyelids start
By Thomas Rynne
Running from the Beast at night,
The trip trap of his feet on the forest floor,
Like a horse kicking at a stable door.
His teeth are so thick and sharp,
He could eat me with one quick bite.
With his cold-blooded claw-like hand,
He rips through branches to get me.
Then suddenly there is no sound at all,
One last breath then I see his ginormous grey claw,
I am eaten like a grape in one bite.
Oh that was a terrible night.
As I lay in his stomach squashed very deep,
I wished I had not woken him from his sleep!
By Rachael Murphy
softly, swishing, sea shells
wind whips, wave washes
flip flop fish fall
seagulls skimming surfaces
grass growing, sand blowing
By Aoife Morrison