Practice in Iambic Pentameter

The store I went to fetch a pale of water
Brushing ‘gainst the wind I heard a cry
The pale moon was full of rhyming laughter
A chatter to warm her blue behind

She said love was the key forever after
Glistened to reason she knew no time
It’s voice said he that truly is the matter
Of same he went to know one mind

A test they devised to see if I could master
Sliterate to tell the unstressed fashions
Or seek to perfect that which was duly noted
Just to count the fives with fer’brant passions

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About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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