there once was a man from nantucket who kept all his cash in a bucket. but his daughter, named nan ran away with a man and as for the bucket, nantucket.
This theme??? I'm OBSESSED <3 Genuinely looking forward to your poetry this year! <333
Viola Tricolor also known as wild pansy, Johnny Jump up, heartsease, heart's ease, heart's delight, tickle-my-fancy, Jack-jump-up-and-kiss-me, come-and-cuddle-me, three faces in a hood, love-in-idleness, and pink of my john-
there once was a child from dover whose parents had gone and keeled over a life on the street with no food left to eat made him join them there, six feet below-ver
wow! this poem captures the dark themes many child rhymes have very well. the rhymes and rhythms give this dark topic a lighthearted theme. excellent job, plume! good luck for the rest of your napo <3
For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace. Romans 6:14 NIV
never apologize for standing up for what you believe in.
previously MomoandAppa, LordMomo, MomoMajesty, and dancingontheclouds
there once was a woman from kent whose fingers were knarled and bent from the days she spent milling for barely a shilling when byssinosis came, she went
there once was a lady from dorset who pulled the strings taut on her corset she stayed pretty and able to put food on the table until her breath left, flat and forcèd
there once was an old chef from cork each day for the duke he made pork the duke stayed unsated the chef stayed frustrated till he self-impaled with his own fork
there once was a mother from perth who had never learned her own worth the men in her life were all blind to her strife so she died after thrice giving birth
there once was a girl from west end who had always loved playing pretend she said "i'll keep trying" but she knew she was lying her funeral had no foe nor friend
there once was an orphan from bath whose parents died in war's own path by the time he was grown war was once again sown and thus he perished in battle's wrath
there once was a young boy from devon who was the tenth child among eleven ignored by his siblings who preferred their quibblings they only cared once he'd found heaven
there once was an old biddy from york who fed birds tiny seeds with a fork she vanished one day amd her neighbors all say she was carried away by a stork
I lingered round them, under that benign sky: watched the moths fluttering among the heath and harebells, listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass, and wondered how any one could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth. — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
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