A quick poem I wrote today. Deleted the first post and re-posted it because I didn't realize it went up without the right line breaks or stanzas! Whoops.
Any comments, etc welcome. Also. Is there a way other than huge spacing to get the line length I want in the post? I messed it up twice. Thanks!
Biking by the Alley in Autumn
Crunchy bright leaves are kicked up, a golden-red flame.
For their ruin, these grooved, ruthless tires are to blame.
Cold wind’s breath eagerly soothes my damp, hot skin,
Brisk air warmly welcomed by hungry lungs drawing in.
Flittering rays glimmer down, a mottled, bright light.
But that mud puddle draws me, and it’s call I don’t fight.
I try lazily to turn, a laziness that, in moments, I’ll rue.
So inevitably my black rubber crashes violently through,
And brown beads soak maliciously into my threads once clean and new.
They leap from their rest where black road turns white
To settle in streaks across my legs, a miserable sight.
My green paradise is tarnished, soiled and splattered with dirt.
This loss of smooth perfect comfort is an unwelcome hurt.
My gorgeous commute, which had thus far been flawless,
Was ruined at once by that muddy puddle’s malice.
Grudging peddles will press onward
Leaving wet tracks in pavement and grass.
To push farther I need not be bothered,
For I’ve arrived home at last.
Biking by the Alley in AutumnIs there a way other than huge spacing to get the line length I want in the post?
Yes,
you put three spaces to the left of the text of each line, like this (but I'm only guessing at your stanza divisions): Crunchy bright leaves are kicked up, a golden-red flame.
For their ruin, these grooved, ruthless tires are to blame.
Cold wind’s breath eagerly soothes my damp, hot skin,
Brisk air warmly welcomed by hungry lungs drawing in.
Flittering rays glimmer down, a mottled, bright light.
But that mud puddle draws me, and it’s call I don’t fight.
I try lazily to turn, a laziness that, in moments, I’ll rue.
So inevitably my black rubber crashes violently through,
And brown beads soak maliciously into my threads once clean and new.
They leap from their rest where black road turns white
To settle in streaks across my legs, a miserable sight.
My green paradise is tarnished, soiled and splattered with dirt.
This loss of smooth perfect comfort is an unwelcome hurt.
My gorgeous commute, which had thus far been flawless,
Was ruined at once by that muddy puddle’s malice.
Grudging peddles will press onward
Leaving wet tracks in pavement and grass.
To push farther I need not be bothered,
For I’ve arrived home at last.