MY POERTY

By De’Aja Koontz

A RED,RED ROSEby Robert Burns

O My Luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June;O My Luve's like the melodieThat's sweetly played in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,So deep in luve am I;And I will luve thee still, my dear,Till a' the seas gang dry, my dearWhile the sands o' life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve,And fare thee weel, awhile!And I will come again, my luveTho' it ware ten thousand mile!

Robert Burns

Simile: comparing his love to a red rose.

BUBBLES•

Some bubbles rise up to the sky Some bubbles don’t I don’t know whyEasily popped by just one touch Easily missed by way to much

Silent and round as we make it Being forgotten bit by bitWeaker and weaker as it growsThat is what happens, I suppose

Of all the ones that we condemnWe don’t remember all of themEven when we continue to grow We still wonder where they go

SAD SANTA

• Shivering, snowbound SantaSleigh stuck in the snow,Seven, striking reindeer straying,A sleet-and-shuddering storm show.

Sticky, sweaty Santa, Searing, sweltering, stifling sally,Surviving scorching sunlight,Seeing stampeding shoppers’ spree

THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE

• Hey diddle, Diddle,The cat and the fiddle,The cow jumped over the moon;The little dog laughed To see such sport,And the dish ran away with the spoon.