One poem I wrote while I was in Saskatchewan for a holiday with family. The poem is an attempt at Iambic Pentameter.

Be with us in the fields Lord and Lady

Prairies so flat, golden and real dainty

The goods and sweets coming from there be sound

As much bread had with some butter abound

Great as the stars above our heads O field

To the basket of our bread we do yield

Hollow holes head hearths in whole homes

Handled homes heired, harks on humble high holes

Hated not whole, and hot happiness had

The sane witch's waking cats be quite glad

Sanely folk to the tools of real hard works

They go to make the homes free of all shirks

Followers of Lord and Lady make haste

For the fields first founded make food to taste

We in the night on fields golden and bright

Followers fair and straight in the moonlight

Fires burn in the stars lit above the head

As we recite all that has been well said

We walk around the star of much justly

Heeding our oaths as we circle sanely

It shall grow large into the great wide oaks

For it has been said those powers it croaks

Our farms in need of rain water flowing

On our prairies we watch for great lightning