Thank you, Anni. Maybe I'm a masochist because I do like making things difficult for myself. I considered rhyming each line as well, but that was a bridge too far. Perhaps next time...
Fire in the outhouse burning bright
Fiery her hair in the stiffening breeze
Flung open the window for the morning air
Forlorn the dog’s despairing gaze
Fresh the fare on checkered tablecloth
Frank her gaze in painter’s eyes
Free her mood and confident
For her fate in Father’s hands.
Line count: 8
Free verse
For Express it in Eight, 09.05.23
Prompt: Write a poem whose lines all begin with the same letter.
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