Learn more about other poetry terms

I saw upon yonder, a tree standing alone,Upon a hill, so stony and cold.I wandered that hill up to the tree,And to my surprise, the tree said to me,
Atop the mountain lies an end,Past this hill, around the bend,A fruitful glade, a home yet found,Yes just beyond our living mound.
My feet are starting to hurt. Why the hell did I do this?   God, I think my heart is going to explode.
A whispering breeze rolls through a quiet neighbourhood. A chord giggles from the rooftops of a busy downtown. All is gone... All is vacant... With nothing but a Blank canvas left to paint.
Subscribe to hill