The Waves

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The Waves, The Waves,
The Wonderful, Glorious Waves!
How They Move.
In And Out,
Up And Down.
Water Flowing All Around.
Truly Music To My Eyes And Ears.
How Unpredictable They Are,
Wild And Free!
The Waves, The Waves
The Wonderful, Glorious Waves.




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I like it, but there isn't much meaning or feeling here. Looks like you just made a poem, but it is good.
I will always fight back, no matter what.




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I like it too,

*starts to sing in a carefree voice (slightly off key)*

The Waves, The Waves,
The Wonderful, Glorious Waves!
How They Move.
In And Out,
Up And Down.
Water Flowing All Around.
Truly Music To My Eyes And Ears.
How Unpredictable They Are,
Wild And Free!
The Waves, The Waves
The Wonderful, Glorious Waves.

*stops singing and looks around warily, like some devilish toaster is going to fall out of the sky and hit her on the head*

Anyway, the only thing I can really point out is that you capitilized every word, maybe just capitilize every first word? But at least you had good form and spacing, I enjoyed it.




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It was a bit plain for me.It didnt really have any meaning.Thats just my opinion,maybe it was meant to be simple?
However, it sounds good to hear and flows well.
Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit.
Wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad.




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An easy thing to do to make sure that the punctuation/capitalization in your poetry is correct is to mush it all together like a paragraph of a story.

Did you have complete sentences? Did you capitalize the beginnings of these sentences?

Unless every line is a new sentence (could I use that word any more? :wink:), the first letter of each line should not be capitalized and it shouldn't end like a comma.

Commas are a bit tricky, too- poetry is very free-form, though, so you can think of them more as breath marks in poetry than as something you put after clauses and in a series, yada-yada. Read your poems out loud, exaggerating all the periods and commas you've got- does it still sound good?
Graffiti is the most passionate form of literature there is.

- Demetri Martin




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It wasnt very poetic or contain much imagery. However it reminded me of a Hobbit song from LOTR. It was ok I guess for its genre although not my personal preference.
Previously known as "Phorcys"
Witherwings Harry Potter RPG




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I think it had a flow, but I can't say that I liked it. Why did you capitalize every single word? I also couldn't get any meaning out of that.




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Hi,
No offence intended by this. I'm not exactly a brilliant or even particularly good poet myself, but I do like reading poetry, and to my ears this poem sounded slightly cliched.

Not that is all I think! Obviously it flowed well, and it was pleasant enough to read (though I don't get why every word was capatilized). It just needs something to spice it up a bit, as its a little bland for my taste.

Overall though, it is a very nice little poem about waves. But it doesnt have any real deep meaning. It's just about waves. Do you see what Im getting at here?

Keep up the good work!
Superman can fly, Spiderman has web powers, but only Batman has his own lighthouse.

*They called her that and they called it again. The day was done.*




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very sweet

Now on to business. You conjured up the image of a little square of ocean; try conjuring up the image of the whole ocean. Describe the whispering winds, the sweet smell of salt as you wade knee deep through glistening black seeweed, maybe the storm brewing far out on the waters, black clouds and cold air blowing on your face, the waves that begin to mount and crash onto the beach, sending drops of water onto your cheeks. . .

sorry, god carried away there. Ultimately, though, it's your poem and I only have suggestions. It's perfectly fine as a child's verse (which is sort of how I thought of it.) Keep writing and happy editing. 8)
“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world.” - Freya Stark




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"The artist doesn't see things as they are, but as he is."

I don't know who wrote this, but it's inexplicably true.

Fael57



He who knows only his own generation remains forever a child.
— Cicero