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As soft as a feather that floats through the air.
As quiet as a whisper when I say a prayer.

    As cold as the wind that blows over the moor
   And as loud as the sound of my husband’s snore.

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As bright as the sunshine that burns down on me.
As hard as the trunk of that very large tree.
    As bad as the smell when I burn the toast
  And as delicious to taste as the foods I like most.

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As soft as the babble of the trickling stream.
As frightening as the monster that came in a dream.
    As beautiful as the fairy that paints roses red
    And as comfortable and cosy as my own little bed.

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As tasty as the fish that we had for our tea.
And as loud as the cry of a wailing banshee.
     Well this is the end of my sensational verse -
      Will your poem be better - or will it be worse?

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Copyright on all my poems 

* A Banshee is said to be a fairy in Irish

legend and her scream is believed to be

an omen of death.

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