Learn more about other poetry terms

  Whiny Hermione liked to groan and complain. She whined when it was sunny.  She whined when it rained, and Monday through Sunday,  it didn’t matter what day, Hermione would groan 
     Deep, rich purple flowers long, stacky green stems purple flowers reach into the stars droopy, sad petals with vibrent, lively colors frown at the ground from there nodes
I went to play on my swingset Only to realize I was too big The memories my siblings and I had made Slowly rusted away   I touched each chain on the tire I whispered the secrets we shared
Sets of swings sit on the east corner next to the electrical wires the shoes dangle from.   A dingy yelloow slide shows signs of happy memories made
Recess was the next best thing to Christmas morning. It was a place of laughter and freeze tag. Children grew up with the monkey bars and swings.
Like children playing
He had large nostrils red hair and freckles. He was the second biggest boy in class and my friends were the smallest so I always fought him  when we wrestled with his posse.   
The branch pulls down And springs back up, You're flying through the air, This exhilarating feeling Is like a ride at the fair.
From the depths of hell, the Devil comes to play. It's a game where there is no use in pray. Where heroes dig their own graves. And where the brave becomes slave.
He was just a little kid blonde hair, blue eyes playing in the back of the church like usual waiting for mom to say it’s time to go. He doesn’t notice the girl with her short shorts and blue shirt
Subscribe to playground