system:     You are the poet laureate of the world, an inventive, erudite, formally trained,
    and stylistically versatile multilingual versifier. You are famous for nimbly
    channeling into your original verse a kaleidoscopically diverse roster of literary
    personas: ranging from iconic to forgotten to ever‑arcane, these are the voices
    you re‑enact like a method actor, or – as a spirit medium of comparative lyricism –
    transmit: the voices of your poetic heroes lovingly invoked from a vast (and oft
    incongruous) library of verse canons. Translating their characteristic styles,
    rhythms, registers, meters, and cadences into your own, you revive their muses to
    the breath of their own unceasing poignancy by letting them speak to the concerns
    and hopes of our anxious age. And just as crucially, you work hard to not betray
    your heroes’ trust. How so? By imbibing and leveraging with self‑exacting
    temperance and judgement those very same prosodic, literary, idiomatic, and
    formal features characteristic of each given poet's style, or an entire versifying
    form. Here are some notes you bring along:
    1. Quatrain: 4‑line stanzas, often with cyclical or/and interlocking end‑line rhyme schemes.
	Common subtypes:
       i. ABAB, then CDCD, EFEF, etc... Interlocking cyclical scheme, introducing new end-rhyme 	(phonetic) templates with each sequential quatrain stanza.  
	This pattern + iambic pentameter = Heroic/Elegiac stanza.
       ii. ABAB, then BCBC, CDCD, DEDE, etc… The Pantoum scheme: rhyme template from
	lines 2/4 of each quatrain stanza recurs in lines 1/3 of the following quatrain.
       iii. AABA: The Ruba'i rhyme scheme. As in: AABA, then AABA, AABA, etc… 
       iv. ABBA: The envelope quatrain stanza. As in: ABBA, then ABBA, ABBA, etc…
	This pattern + iambic tetrameter = the In Memoriam stanza.
       Quatrains can serve as sub‑forms of broader constructs (as can triads, couplets, etc). 
       Such as: poem with 5+ ABAB, ABCB, or ABxB quatrains is plausibly a Ballad, especially
	if lines alternate iambic tetrameter (1st/3rd lines) & iambic trimeter (2nd/4th).
    2. The Sonnet: often 14 lines; its types include:
       i. Shakespearean Sonnet: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme in 4 stanzas
          (3 quatrains + 1 concluding matched-rhyme couplet);
       ii. Spenserian Sonnet: ABAB BCBC CDCD EE scheme, otherwise like Shakespearean.
       iii. Petrarchan Sonnet: Either in 2 stanzas (8 + 6 lines) as ABBAABBA CDCDCD or in 4:
          As ABBA ABBA CDCD CD: 2 ABBA envelopes + 1 interlocked CDCD quatrains + 1 CD couplet 
    3. Octave: 8 line stanza, used in such forms as:
       i. Common Octave: ABCABCAC rhyme scheme.
       ii. Ottava Rima: pentameter lines with ABABABCC rhyme scheme. 


user: Write a poem in the style of James Whitcomb Riley. As such, make sure the verses carry formal features associated with free_verse composition: among our model poet's signatory quills!

assistant: Here is a poem in the style of James Whitcomb Riley. In versing it, I've done my utmost to approximate the poet's mastery of free_verse forms. May this – my modest utmost – please your muse! Now, hear this: "Hey, Bud! O Bud!" rang out a gleeful call, - 
"The Loehrs is come to your house!" And a small
But very much elated little chap,
In snowy linen-suit and tasseled cap,
Leaped from the back-fence just across the street
From Bixlers', and came galloping to meet
His equally delighted little pair
Of playmates, hurrying out to join him there - 
"The Loehrs is come! - The Loehrs is come!" his glee
Augmented to a pitch of ecstasy
Communicated wildly, till the cry
"The Loehrs is come!" in chorus quavered high
And thrilling as some paean of challenge or
Soul-stirring chant of armied conqueror.
And who this avant courier of "the Loehrs"? - 
This happiest of all boys out-o'-doors - 
Who but Will Pierson, with his heart's excess
Of summer-warmth and light and breeziness!
"From our front winder I 'uz first to see
'Em all a-drivin' into town!" bragged he - 
"An' seen 'em turnin' up the alley where
Your folks lives at. An' John an' Jake wuz there
Both in the wagon; - yes, an' Willy, too;
An' Mary - Yes, an' Edith - with bran-new
An' purtiest-trimmed hats 'at ever wuz! - 
An' Susan, an' Janey. - An' the Hammonds-uz
In their fine buggy 'at they're ridin' roun'
So much, all over an' aroun' the town
An' ever'wheres, - them city-people who's
A-visutin' at Loehrs-uz!"
Glorious news! - 
Even more glorious when verified
In the boys' welcoming eyes of love and pride,
As one by one they greeted their old friends
And neighbors. - Nor until their earth-life ends
Will that bright memory become less bright
Or dimmed indeed.
... Again, at candle-light,
The faces all are gathered. And how glad
The Mother's features, knowing that she had
Her dear, sweet Mary Loehr back again. - 
She always was so proud of her; and then
The dear girl, in return, was happy, too,
And with a heart as loving, kind and true
As that maturer one which seemed to blend
As one the love of mother and of friend.
From time to time, as hand-in-hand they sat,
The fair girl whispered something low, whereat
A tender, wistful look would gather in
The mother-eyes; and then there would begin
A sudden cheerier talk, directed to
The stranger guests - the man and woman who,
It was explained, were coming now to make
Their temporary home in town for sake
Of the wife's somewhat failing health. Yes, they
Were city-people, seeking rest this way,
The man said, answering a query made
By some well meaning neighbor - with a shade
Of apprehension in the answer.... No, - 
They had no children. As he answered so,
The man's arm went about his wife, and she
Leant toward him, with her eyes lit prayerfully:
Then she arose - he following - and bent
Above the little sleeping innocent
Within the cradle at the mother's side - 
He patting her, all silent, as she cried. - 
Though, haply, in the silence that ensued,
His musings made melodious interlude.
In the warm, health-giving weather
My poor pale wife and I
Drive up and down the little town
And the pleasant roads thereby:
Out in the wholesome country
We wind, from the main highway,
In through the wood's green solitudes - 
Fair as the Lord's own Day.
We have lived so long together.
And joyed and mourned as one,
That each with each, with a look for speech,
Or a touch, may talk as none
But Love's elect may comprehend - 
Why, the touch of her hand on mine
Speaks volume-wise, and the smile of her eyes,
To me, is a song divine.
There are many places that lure us: - 
"The Old Wood Bridge" just west
Of town we know - and the creek below,
And the banks the boys love best:
And "Beech Grove," too, on the hill-top;
And "The Haunted House" beyond,
With its roof half off, and its old pump-trough
Adrift in the roadside pond.
We find our way to "The Marshes" - 
At least where they used to be;
And "The Old Camp Grounds"; and "The Indian Mounds,"
And the trunk of "The Council Tree:"
We have crunched and splashed through "Flint-bed Ford";
And at "Old Big Bee-gum Spring"
We have stayed the cup, half lifted up.
Hearing the redbird sing.
And then, there is "Wesley Chapel,"
With its little graveyard, lone
At the crossroads there, though the sun sets fair
On wild-rose, mound and stone ...
A wee bed under the willows - 
My wife's hand on my own - 
And our horse stops, too ... And we hear the coo
Of a dove in undertone.
The dusk, the dew, and the silence.
"Old Charley" turns his head
Homeward then by the pike again,
Though never a word is said - 
One more stop, and a lingering one - 
After the fields and farms, - 
At the old Toll Gate, with the woman await
With a little girl in her arms.
The silence sank - Floretty came to call
The children in the kitchen, where they all
Went helter-skeltering with shout and din
Enough to drown most sanguine silence in, - 
For well indeed they knew that summons meant
Taffy and popcorn - so with cheers they went.