Anglo-Saxon Verse

"Tangents Will take -- your total brain over"
(AKA, "It's not supposed to make sense!)

Like glass, her glowing -- grimacing green
Eyes, are zephyrs -- sciroccos fading
As quickly as they come -- crows, quacks...
Bug off, Bridget! -- You best run home
Afore yer father -- finds out about the feathers.
This thimble -- your thistly new toy?
Have some heights -- dream bigger, man.
Death, by damning -- or possibly doubt
Puts little life -- in my sorrowing heart.
"Steadfast, loyal -- surely true
I'd like a love -- who answered that."
"Scream 'til your face -- goes silky blue
Perhaps Heaven'll -- answer you."
Your minks are murmuring -- just to themselves,
"Rebel! Rebel!" -- best be on your guard.

The words I want -- seem always on the horizon
Beckoning drunkenly at me -- beyond my dreams,
I find there are no reasons -- to flirt with the wrong
Words, when all I wish -- is for the one, old weary
Line that can lodge -- into the speaker's throat and lay
Like an aged hound, heavy -- with who knows how many
Possibilities? Perhaps I -- try too hard to bind
The words into strict webs -- that waste their time,
Their talents lost to troches -- and dactyls. Tethered
Is no way to live -- a word needs the waters,
The open waters -- and the waving, unbound
Freedom of the fiery -- frothing surf
That serves as the sea -- of my memories.
For that fact, I fling -- the words out to fly
To places unknown -- and destinies perfect.

I really hated writing Anglo-Saxon verse, and these aren't good examples of the form. It's my least favourite poem form now--I think it's stupid as anything. If you're disappointed in the quality of these two? Well, at least you know why they're crappy.