Quotes About Rhyme

The fact that something is in a rhymed form or in blank verse will not make it good poetry.

A nursery rhyme character...they don't like that term. They prefer "Preadolescent Poetic Personalities".

Let me help. Rhymes with I love you, right?

For the most part I felt nothing but scorn for an art form that required the pretense that it was natural for people to communicate with one another in rhymed song.

Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the tintinnabulation that so musically wellsFrom the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells.

The word "Verse" is used here as the term most convenient for expressing, and without pedantry, all that is involved in the consideration of rhythm, rhyme, meter, and versification... the subject is exceedingly simple; one tenth of it, possibly may be called ethical; nine tenths, however, appertains to the mathematics.

Lily O'Grady,Silly and shady,Longing to beA lazy lady.

I was promised on a timeTo have reason for my rhyme;From that time unto this season,I received nor rhyme nor reason.

There was a young man of Dundoo, Whose limericks stopped at line 2.

It's like a lion at the door;And when the door begins to crack,It's like a stick across your back;And when your back begins to smart,It's like a penknife in your heart;And when your heart begins to bleed,You're dead, and dead, and dead, indeed.

Monday's child is fair of face,Tuesday's child is full of grace,Wednesday's child is full of woe,Thursday's child has far to go,Friday's child is loving and giving,Saturday's child has to work for its living,But a child that's born on the Sabbath dayIs fair and wise and good and gay.

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers;A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked.If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,Where's the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?

The north wind doth blow,And we shall have snow,And what will poor robin do then,Poor thing? He'll sit in a barn,To keep himself warm,And hide his head under his wing,Poor thing!

One flew east, one flew west,One flew over the cuckoo's nest.

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,Here comes a chopper to chop off your head.

"Who killed Cock Robin?""I," said the sparrow,"With my bow and arrow,I killed Cock Robin."

Old King ColeWas a merry old soul,And a merry old soul was he,He called for his pipe,And he called for his bowl,And he called for his fiddlers three.

The King of France went up the hillWith forty thousand men;The King of France came down the hillAnd ne'er went up again.

I wrote poetry from the time I could write. That was the only way I could begin to express who I was but the poems didn't make sense to my teachers. They didn't rhyme. They were about the wind sounds, the planets' motions, never about who I was or how I felt. I didn't think I felt anything. I was this mind more than a body or a heart. My mind photographing the stars, hearing the wind.

You can probably also call it poetic justice, even though it doesn't rhyme.

I say, William, have you a word that rhymes with jewel?" Hamlet asked with the hoarsened voice of one who had bellowed one too many battle cries. And William, who never had any words to utter that weren't variations on some curse or another, said helpfully, "Ah," then promptly fell silent. "Try fool," Richard muttered. "And be certain to apply it to me.

Lords of space and Lords of time, Lords of blessing, Lords of grace, Who is in the warmer clime? Who will follow Madoc's rhyme? Blue will alter time and space.

One Crow for sorrow, Two Crows for mirth, Three Crows for a wedding, Four Crows for a birth, Five Crows for silver, Six Crows for gold, Seven for a secret, never to be told.

Ring around the rosie. A pocket full of posie. Ashes ashes, we all fall down. Some people say that this poem is about the Black Death, the fourteenth-century plague that killed 100-million people... Sadly, though, most experts think this is nonsense... How can I be so sure about this rhyme when all the experts disagree? Because I ate the kid who made it up.