Wonderland Wildness

Written for:  Phoenix Rising, The Reason for Rhyme

So, what are rhymes? Rhymes generally are words that differ only on their initial sounds. Sounds like true and blue, or leg and beg. Looking at that, we find that some words do not have an English word with which it rhymes: orange, month, circle, purple are some examples. Even a word that poets use a lot in our work, LOVE, has a limited number of rhyme words. There are subtleties to the rhyming process. These will be dissected during March.

The first thing we will incorporate in our works are the placements of rhyme. We are familiar with end rhymes. These words obviously come at the end of our lines.

Initial rhymes conversely come at the beginning of the lines.

(Free xxxx xxxx xxxx.
See xxxx xxxx xxxx)

Medial (middle) rhymes are a bit more complex. They can be “internal”, a rhyme between a medial word and the end rhyme.

(xxx thou xxx cow).

A “close” rhyme is an internal rhyme between words that are in close proximity to each other, neither at the end of a line.

(Smug xxx bug xxx).

“Interlaced” rhymes are words that appear internally in two consecutive lines.

(xxxxx door xxxx,
xxxx floor xxxx)

Be mindful of these rhyme placements as we use as many instances as we can in our poems this week when we take time to rhyme. Any subject; any form! Good luck!


Alice showed no malice toward
the red-faced Queen of Hearts.
Roses had been painted red,
Fuming, the queen said, off with her head,
all besides the issue of those stolen tarts.

The white rabbit was late
so it was his fate
to have tea time begin
without him.

The Cheshire cat had vanished,
dormouse was clearly drunk,
Hair and Hatter spoke gibberish
leaving Alice in a funk.

She’d grown too tall,
shrunk too small
after her fall,
with no one to call,
found herself sprawled
on the ground near a wall.

Alice sought advice
from a caterpillar, smoking
a device that blew letters in air,
promptly setting her choking.

Her curiosity caused a dream,
that’s what the family said.
When Alice woke under a tree,
ow! a bump on her head.

Alice kept her thoughts unspoken, smiling
at a piece of broken mushroom, a token beguiling.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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1 Response to Wonderland Wildness

  1. julespaige says:

    I love all verse concerning Alice –
    even if she never did imagine a palace.
    Your words just trim the tale
    allowing her to keep her veil…

    (Thanks for stopping by ~ Jules)

    Liked by 1 person

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