The hills call siren-like and steep.
Two children share a wooden sled,
new snow is beckoning and deep,
the hills call siren-like and steep.
They landed in a shattered heap,
too fast to suffer, it was said.
The hills called siren-like and steep.
Two children shared a wooden sled.
Well, this started out to be a quadrille (44 words) including the word “steep” to link to dVerse Poets’ Pub, but somehow it turned into a dark triolet. Theat’s an eight line, iambic tetrameter poem with the rhyme scheme: ABaAabAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines. I haven’t written one of these in ages.
Sad.
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Yeah, and it didn’t start out that way. Not sure why it took that turn.
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