On the tip of her tongue the words wait to escape
Though they scream between lines, penning pain to her face
In the dark she is flame, in the light she is dim
Her heart skips…..a beat, she sinks deep into him
In his arms, burdens rise, featherweight floating free
In his eyes she sets sail, anchors thrown to the sea
Under moonlight they dance between shadows and shine
She is tulips in winter, he’s her reason and rhyme
My attempt at Anapestic Tetrameter. Yes, say that 3x. We are playing with meter at dVerse Poets Pub. Bjorn is our host, leading us fearlessly into form poetry at Meeting the Bar. For me, it was a challenge. A bit of a hop, skip and jump from free verse.
mishunderstood 