Learn more about other poetry terms

My feet pounded against the ground as my fingers gripped the smooth, tall wood that was taller than the world’s tallest man. My back ached from all the bending; as my breath was ragged from the short yet heavy run.
Gen’rally, as pirates go There’s something that you ought to know If you’re looking for some friendly sands, Don’t winter down at Ireland   There’s a Scottish Scourge, by name MacCaddock 
Subscribe to Scottish