Poetry

I love poetry. I write rhyming poems, I memorize poems, I love poems! I can write and memorize really long poems. Last year in fourth grade, I recited a poem 12 paragraphs long in front of my whole class. Then I forgot it, but in the last hour I memorized it and another one I forgot again. Here's the first one.
The Thirteen Dancing Skeletons
In a snow enshrouded graveyard gripped by winter's bitter chill, not a single soul is stirring, all is silent, all is still till a distant bell tolls midnight and the spirits work their will.
For emerging from their coffins burred deep beneath the snow, thirteen bony apparitions, now commence their spectral show, and they gather in the moonlight undulating as they go.
And they'll dance in their bones, in their bare bare bones, with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack the clatter and the chatter of their bare bare bones.
They shake their flimsy shoulders and they flex their fleshless knees and they nod their skulls in greeting in the penetrating breeze as they form an eerie circle near the gnarled and twisted trees.
They link their spindly fingers as they promenade around casting otherworldly shadows on the silver mantled ground and their footfalls in the snowdrift.
And they dance in their bones, in their bare bare bones with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack and the clatter and the chatter of their bare bare bones.
The thirteen grinning skeletons continue on their way as to strains of soundless music they begin to swing and sway and they circle ever faster in their ghastly roundelay.
Faster, faster ever faster and yet faster now they race, winding, whirling, ever swirling in the frenzy of their pace and they shimmer in the moonlight as they spin themselves through space.
And they dance in their bones in their bare bare bones, with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack and the clatter and the chatter of their bare bare bones.
Then as quickly as it started their nocturnal dance done for the bell that is their signal loudly tolls the hour of one and they bow to one another in their bony unison.
Then the vanish to their coffins by their ghostly thoroughfare and the emptiness of silence once more fills the frosted air and the snows that mask their footprints show no sign that they were there.
But they danced in their bones, in their bare bare bones, with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack and the clatter and the chatter of their bare bare bones.
Okay, on to the next poem.
The Owl and the Pussy Cat
The Owl and the Pussy Cat went to sea in a beautiful pea green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note. The Owl looked up the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, " O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love, What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are! What a beautiful Pussy you are!"
Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl! How charmingly sweet you sing! O let us be married! too long we have tarried: But what shall we do for a ring?" They sailed away, for a year and a day, To the land where the Bong-tree grows And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood With a ring at the end of his nose, His nose, His nose, With a ring at the end of his nose.
"Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling Y0ur ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will." So they took it away, and were married the next day By the turkey who lives on the hill. They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon, The moon, The moon, They danced by the light of the moon.
There all done. Those are LONG poems.