I am starting a practice to work on my ability to execute “poetic/literary devices.” I will focus on six in particular, three per post. The format is royal rhyme, a seven line iambic pentameter stanza of ABABBCC, in which I will attempt to portray one of the following: personification, irony, hyperbole, metaphor, simile, and imagery.
The dancing flame atop the embers leapt,
A tongue ablaze like lightning lapping high,
Far up to meet the stars who gently slept,
And put to sleep the clouds and rocks, so shy,
With utterances of their tire minds’ eyes,
Exhaling breeze to vocalize their need,
To napping they shall go immediately.
The nectar of the gods, tis sweetest goad,
The adversary of my better sense:
Aroma, fragrant blossoms, nose explodes,
As chilly pain, the wake of its descent,
Does roll its plaintive fizzing, minus stint.
A thousand popping bubbles roll around
My gut, diffuse the burp within, unwound.
It’s like a cat that’s sleeping on a bed,
Or as the evening tide so ever flows,
Receding out away from clinging ebb,
The gazing moon providing light for those
Who like a cat do slumber through and doze,
‘Til moon awakens from a slumber deep,
The hunter not ’til day again will sleep.