MY POERTY By De’Aja Koontz

A RED,RED ROSE by Robert Burns O My Luve's like a red, red rose, That's newly sprung in June; O My Luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve, And fare thee weel, awhile! And I will come again, my luve Tho' it ware ten thousand mile! Robert Burns Simile: comparing his love to a red rose.

BUBBLES Some bubbles rise up to the sky Some bubbles don’t I don’t know why Easily popped by just one touch Easily missed by way to much Silent and round as we make it Being forgotten bit by bit Weaker and weaker as it grows That is what happens, I suppose Of all the ones that we condemn We don’t remember all of them Even when we continue to grow We still wonder where they go

SAD SANTA Shivering, snowbound Santa Sleigh stuck in the snow, Seven, striking reindeer straying, A sleet-and-shuddering storm show. Sticky, sweaty Santa, Searing, sweltering, stifling sally, Surviving scorching sunlight, Seeing stampeding shoppers’ spree

THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE Hey diddle, Diddle, The cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon; The little dog laughed To see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon.