I’m not against rhyme, I promise–there were just a few poetry classes, where I was forced to write sonnets and the like. And they did not go well. (Picture me muttering to myself, trying to determine stressed and unstressed syllables.)
* * *
Freedom!
From WikiMedia by Rob Speed.
Metered
Words dance on the page
rising and falling to the beat
music that sings
*
Words rattle the cage
and concede defeat
a bird with clipped wings
Thanks to Krystle: A Booknatic.
Thanks Marcia of Bookin' It, Ileandra of Writing: A Conversation Without Interruptions, D.R. Sylvester of Writes & Responsibilities, and bibliobettyreviews.
Also thanks to Marcia. :)
Thanks to David of DFL Writing.
Thanks Keona-Mlh of Queen’s Enigma is Back!
Thanks, Jess from What Comes Next!
Thanks to Marcia Meara at Bookin' It, Sarah from Earful of Cider, and Ileandra from Writing: A Conversation Without Interruptions.
Thanks Marcia!
caitlinsternwrites 
First, this is so elegantly and beautifully said, and any writer (especially of poems) knows exactly what you mean. Well done.
Secondly, I used to raise parrots of all shapes and sizes, (we had 46 birds at one point) and we had a little green-cheeked conure exactly like this one! His name was Sgt. Peeper, and he was such a funny little bird. He talked up a storm, and lived with us twelve years before heading off on his final flight. I laughed when I saw this picture!
Sgt. Peeper! 🙂
Great name.