1. Paul Bunyan
Famous Poem
He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,
He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall...that's Paul.
This section is for poetry that falls in the realm of fantasy. The genre of fantasy is an opportunity to dream of reality as we might like it to be. It may leave the reader wondering if this fantasy is possible or whether it bears any resemblance to the real world. However, there are no limits to the possibilities that our imaginations can conjure. Each of these thoughts that are put on paper, although lacking an objective truth, tell us a truth about the human condition.
Famous Poem
He rode through the woods on a big blue ox,
He had fists as hard as choppin' blocks,
Five hundred pounds and nine feet tall...that's Paul.
This poem is easily identifiable as a classic, and it contains facts and emotions we all share throughout life at some time or other. Great reading and a great share. Well worth real...
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Once upon the ocean blue
came a story just for you
'bout the bloody buccaneers
who sailed the Main in yesteryears.
Very fun to read. The rhymes and the cadence were great!
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We slip beneath the pillow's spell
And drift from heaven and into hell
To lose control of conscious mind
The secrets of our soul to find.
I asked him where he was going,
And he said that he didn't know.
Then I asked him where he came from,
I walked to the beach,
To collect some shells.
I stood on the pier,
And listened to the sounds.
Do you know where fairies live?
To see just one, I'd gladly give
The moon and stars and galaxies
That sail above the summer breeze.
I have been offline due to friends visiting and would have replied sooner, but your words of encouragement, including visualizing a book, made my day--thank you so much! I have read all of...
In the fairy town of Dragonfly Cove, the air is filled with anticipation
For tonight is the town's biggest event, its Halloween celebration
The fairies are up with the first rays of the sun
Famous Poem
Troll sat alone on his seat of stone,
And munched and mumbled a bare old bone;
For many a year he had gnawed it near,
For meat was hard to come by.
This poem reminds me of times reading this with my dad. Thank you for publishing this poem!
In my little airplane
flying way up high,
zooming through the lands of clouds
so white and grand and high,