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I Need your honest opinion on this please.?
My Front Porch
My Front Porch, a place i call home.
Everything around it is beautiful.
The flowers in the front yard,
And the old wooden swing that sits to the left.
The world around it sounds like a jungle,
Rather than a backroad through a forest.
I listen to the water drip from the trees,
and the birds singing as they pass by.
As i sit here and listen, everything else goes away.
No problem could distract me from the peace and beauty of this forgotten place.
I sit here and cherish every sound, spot, and memory,
As i escape from the reality.
Somedays the thunder rolls back in the trees.
Others the sun shines through the windows bright.
But everything stays in place,
Just makes everything alright.
When i have nothing to do,
And the big brick house isnt good enough,
I walk down the hallway and to the left
To my front porch, a place i call home.
please tell me your honest opinion on this. thank you.
My Front Porch, a place i call home.
Everything around it is beautiful.
The flowers in the front yard,
And the old wooden swing that sits to the left.
The world around it sounds like a jungle,
Rather than a backroad through a forest.
I listen to the water drip from the trees,
and the birds singing as they pass by.
As i sit here and listen, everything else goes away.
No problem could distract me from the peace and beauty of this forgotten place.
I sit here and cherish every sound, spot, and memory,
As i escape from the reality.
Somedays the thunder rolls back in the trees.
Others the sun shines through the windows bright.
But everything stays in place,
Just makes everything alright.
When i have nothing to do,
And the big brick house isnt good enough,
I walk down the hallway and to the left
To my front porch, a place i call home.
please tell me your honest opinion on this. thank you.
12 Answers
I like this very much. I'm not fond of free verse, but this is simple, straightforward, unpretentious. It works. The words you choose, the rhythm of the language is slow and soothing, like rocking on the porch.
I have one little criticism, uncharacteristic of me. I would change the rhyme in the next to last stanza. Even if this rhyme is accidental (bright / alright), it seems trite in an otherwise honest and expressive poem.
It can work very well to use one rhyme to emphasize the strongest point in an unrhymed poem, but I don't think that's your strongest point. Even then, you have to make the rhyme sound as natural as the rest of the poem, and not goof with the grammar to get the rhyme in on time.
But that's a tiny little nitpick on an otherwise well written poem. You have a gift. Thank you for sharing this with us.
I have one little criticism, uncharacteristic of me. I would change the rhyme in the next to last stanza. Even if this rhyme is accidental (bright / alright), it seems trite in an otherwise honest and expressive poem.
It can work very well to use one rhyme to emphasize the strongest point in an unrhymed poem, but I don't think that's your strongest point. Even then, you have to make the rhyme sound as natural as the rest of the poem, and not goof with the grammar to get the rhyme in on time.
But that's a tiny little nitpick on an otherwise well written poem. You have a gift. Thank you for sharing this with us.
My Front Porch
My Front Porch is my favorite place.
Everything around it is beautiful.
The flowers in the front yard,
And the old wooden swing that sits to the left.
The world around it sounds like a jungle,
Rather than a backroad through a forest.
I listen to the water drip from the trees,
and the birds singing as they pass by.
As i sit here and listen, everything else goes away.
No problem could distract me from the peace and beauty of this forgotten place.
I sit here and cherish every sound, spot, and memory,
As i escape from reality.
Some days the thunder rolls back in the trees.
At times the sun shines through the windows bright.
But everything stays in place,
Just makes everything alright.
When i have nothing to do,
And the big brick house isnt good enough,
I walk down the hallway and to the left
To my front porch, a place I call home.
(Its good, try considering my edited version of your poem)
My Front Porch is my favorite place.
Everything around it is beautiful.
The flowers in the front yard,
And the old wooden swing that sits to the left.
The world around it sounds like a jungle,
Rather than a backroad through a forest.
I listen to the water drip from the trees,
and the birds singing as they pass by.
As i sit here and listen, everything else goes away.
No problem could distract me from the peace and beauty of this forgotten place.
I sit here and cherish every sound, spot, and memory,
As i escape from reality.
Some days the thunder rolls back in the trees.
At times the sun shines through the windows bright.
But everything stays in place,
Just makes everything alright.
When i have nothing to do,
And the big brick house isnt good enough,
I walk down the hallway and to the left
To my front porch, a place I call home.
(Its good, try considering my edited version of your poem)
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