There is a name for this kind of poem, which escapes me. The idea is that line 1 has one syllable, line 2 has two syllables, and so on.
The following one was written quickly (by me) for some kind of blog challenge a few years ago.
On your path
Over life’s high
That milk curdles for a
Reason: flux is not a form
Of treason. Live, enjoy the dance,
Acquiesce to happenstance, and give
The whispers of your spirit a fair chance.