Ghazal

Wolves running through the trees
Wild and so free.
Stalking their prey without laws
How nice it is to be free.
To sing at the moon without a care
So happy they are to be free.
And mating just once, until the day they die
If we could only be just as free.

Cinquain (modern)

Drums
Hard, Fast
a heart beating
a new day dawning
dancing.

Cinquain (traditional)

The voice
Clear and unique
Carries across the stage
into the sea of people there
watching.

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Gentle Vibrations of the guitar
Caress my soul
like the velvet fingers
of a lover against my skin