As soft as a feather that floats through the air.
As quiet as a whisper when I say a prayer.
As cold as the wind that blows over the moor
And as loud as the sound of my husband’s snore.
As bright as the sunshine that burns down on me.
As hard as the trunk of that very large tree.
As bad as the smell when I burn the toast
And as delicious to taste as the foods I like most.
As soft as the babble of the trickling stream.
As frightening as the monster that came in a dream.
As beautiful as the fairy that paints roses red
And as comfortable and cosy as my own little bed.
As tasty as the fish that we had for our tea.
And as loud as the cry of a wailing banshee.
Well this is the end of my sensational verse -
Will your poem be better - or will it be worse?
Copyright on all my poems
* A Banshee is said to be a fairy in Irish
legend and her scream is believed to be
an omen of death.