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Literature Text
Bouncing, flouncing through the air;
Without worry, without care.
While happily singing gaily
Per-chik-o-ree, almost daily.
Golden yellow, darkest black;
A cheery fellow—-I whistle back.
I see his mate, the sweetest thing,
Drab of color and fleet of wing.
Off they spin, a lively dance,
A stately waltz or gamboling prance.
Both together, they whisk away...
It is a shame they couldn't stay.
Without worry, without care.
While happily singing gaily
Per-chik-o-ree, almost daily.
Golden yellow, darkest black;
A cheery fellow—-I whistle back.
I see his mate, the sweetest thing,
Drab of color and fleet of wing.
Off they spin, a lively dance,
A stately waltz or gamboling prance.
Both together, they whisk away...
It is a shame they couldn't stay.
My only problem is, I don't know what category to stick my poems in! 
This one I started out writing some years ago, using the lines "bouncing, flouncing through the air. Without worry, without care." But the rest was made up the day before yesterday.
If you've ever seen a goldfinch flying, they DO look like they're bouncing. They kind of bounce up, and sink down, only to bounce up again.
(And I don't know if I'd describe their sound as "per-chik-o-ree" but the book did.)
This one I started out writing some years ago, using the lines "bouncing, flouncing through the air. Without worry, without care." But the rest was made up the day before yesterday.
If you've ever seen a goldfinch flying, they DO look like they're bouncing. They kind of bounce up, and sink down, only to bounce up again.
(And I don't know if I'd describe their sound as "per-chik-o-ree" but the book did.)
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Comments13
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I've never seen a goldfinch flying. Thankyou for this description 