For your post this week, you need to find a stanza of poetry that is written primarily in anapestic feet. It does not matter how long the lines are, only that they are written in anapestic feet. Copy and paste the stanza into your reply for full credit. You cannot use any poem that has already been posted by anyone else in your class. There is not discussion required for this post; however, if you choose the same stanza as anyone else, you will receive zero credit. There is plenty of poetry for everyone to choose from.
17 Comments
Abby Hughes
1/16/2015 01:38:16 am
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
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Ryon Shaw
1/16/2015 05:00:58 am
‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
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Rebecca Deist
1/16/2015 05:07:26 am
I am monarch of all I survey,
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Nathan Nutter
1/16/2015 05:08:44 am
My morning retirement ritual, Provides breakfast to the birds on my street. Food for fowl, silencing bellies that growl, Watching the many hundreds gather near, Huddled together on branches they meet, With a calm patience we’ve learned to revere.
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Jacob Berens
1/16/2015 05:11:09 am
May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,
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Krista Campbell
1/16/2015 05:11:58 am
I am monarch of all I survey,
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Jacob Crist
1/16/2015 05:23:03 am
The absolutely generation
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Shayla Raybern
1/16/2015 05:23:56 am
We are swept in the whirl of gowns twirling around
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Emily Ediger
1/18/2015 06:41:22 am
There's a river that twists in the mind
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Cody Starkel
1/18/2015 10:16:29 am
I am Africa, I am man Hear my drums, know my heart beat My sorrow is not metered in iambic lines Life does not speak that way So artificial this enumeration of joy So false this constant rise and fall of tone I fish the tides Sometimes the water rises above the rock And stay a long, long time Like a dream that won't give up Sometimes the water recedes far out Lingering at the bar Waiting for the moon to show her breast Watching silently like a star For one ear Nana Oba to divorce me From this culture that is my hell. I am Africa, I am man My fingers running fast on antelope skin Cross the bata light and sweet like a caress Like rainfall on the Serengeti Like bird call for Nana Oshun's memory
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Griffin Myers
1/18/2015 12:02:49 pm
As the cannon still blasted and screamed o're the field, in the din from the wood the Virginians would march, to the drum beat without and the heart beat within 'twas no matter their courage, their fate now was sealed; at the angle awaits many thousand blue troops, while the gray line moved closer and quickened their pace and the bodies of brothers now lie in the field, the crescendo of war would then peak at the wall, where the brave men would die so the slaves would be freed. As the dead of the leaders lie cold with their men, a torn country would try to now mend its lost soul, to the hymn of the war they would carry the cross and would pray for the brothers they lost.
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Cole Hanken
1/18/2015 01:15:41 pm
There's a river that twists in the mind that I plunder and ravish with sieves, on crusades to the summit of rhyme where my Phoenix of tropes and schemes live.
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Cole Hanken
1/19/2015 02:02:05 am
My silk gown flows with glistening colors of blue And I see other ladies in pink and soft white While the lights from above accent folds that imbue Like soft colors of petals in moonglow at night.
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Cassidy Wedel
1/18/2015 01:15:59 pm
Dawn chorus trills arias in duet Not a dulcet tone morning to forget Rose shot with purl
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Ellen Yowell
1/19/2015 12:13:08 pm
On a bright sunny morning, in the middle of May,
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Michael McKinney
1/20/2015 01:28:37 am
Feeding the birds of every pedigree, Flying things, all sizes, colors, and shapes. Hungry beaks, vibrant feathers, sharp clawed feet, Small Finches and Wrens, large Sparrows come round. Harmoniously singing us awake, Their only care: yummy seeds on the ground.
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Michael McKinney
1/20/2015 01:34:20 am
Hear this proverb and wonder thereof, A friend's worth, your intent and its end. Hear it well, "There is NO greater love than to lay down your life for your friend.”
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