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Poem and poetry are in no doubt survived by people who dedicate their lives to write good poetry. Of course you do know that poems to some are just some boring lines but to understand poems and poetry, you have to be relaxed and more than willing to read the poem at least twice.

Written below is a poem written by one of the greatest poet ever lived, William Shakesphere. this one is a love sonnet.

Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war, How to divide the conquest of thy sight; Mine eye my heart thy picture’s sight would bar, My heart mine eye the freedom of that right. My heart doth plead that thou in him dost lie, A closet never pierc’d with crystal eyes But the defendant doth that plea deny, And says in him thy fair appearance lies. To side this title is impannelled A quest of thoughts, all tenants to the heart; And by their verdict is determined The clear eye’s moiety, and the dear heart’s part: As thus; mine eye’s due is thy outward part, And my heart’s right, thy inward love of heart. William Shekesphere

As you can see, this poem by William Shakesphere is indeed lovely. It has 14 lines therefore it passes being a sonnet and look at how he rhymes. The first four lines are alternaate and the final three lines are the same. Clarity was also shown andalthough it has some old english, its still a brillant love poem. When you look upon a beautiful woman, two things normaly comes into play. The eyes and the heart. look at line 7 and 8.

But the defendant doth that plea deny, And says in him thy fair appearance lies.

So no matter how beautiful she is, nobody could deny it. one of the greatest poem collection ever.

Some variations are good at times. You can even write about poetry itself and still make it to be one of the greatest poems ever written. This is another stunner by Margaret Cavendish

The Poetess’s Hasty Resolution

Reading my verses, I liked them so well, Self-love did make my judgment to rebel. Thinking them so good, I thought more to write; Considering not how others would them like. I writ so fast, I thought, if I lived long, A pyramid of fame to build thereon. Reason observing which way I was bent, Did stay my hand, and asked me what I meant; Will you, said she, thus waste your time in vain, On that which in the world small praise shall gain? For shame, leave off, said she, the printer spare, He'll lose by your ill poetry, I fear. Besides the world hath already such a weight Of useless books, as it is overfraught. Then pity take, do the world a good turn, And all you write cast in the fire, and burn. Angry I was, and Reason struck away, When I did hear, what she to me did say. Then all in haste I to the press it sent, Fearing persuasion might my book prevent. But now ’tis done, with grief repent do I, Hang down my head with shame, blush, sigh, and cry. Take pity, and my drooping spirits raise, Wipe off my tears with handkerchiefs of praise.

This poem was very well done. It speaks about writing own own material. poem, book etc. Sometimes you write and your handywork seems to be the greatest poem you ever done but to someone else, its absolute crap. so even though someone discourage her.

Will you, said she, thus waste your time in vain, On that which in the world small praise shall gain?

Even tough they encourage you to stop wasting your time, because enough useless material are already in the world, once you believe in you, then thats all that matters

Take pity, and my drooping spirits raise, Wipe off my tears with handkerchiefs of praise.