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Hope Quatrain Poems | Quatrain Poems About Hope

These Hope Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Hope. These are the best examples of Hope Quatrain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Quatrain |

Windowpanes

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and 
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of 
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field 
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community 
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound 
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the 
evening to be appropriate for the purpose. 
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical 
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that 
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the 
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by 
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew, I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true, A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent. I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more. Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore, The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry, As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by. The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes. The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve. My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before. She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside, And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride. Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart, For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part. Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear. The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years, Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears, When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew, And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.


Details | Quatrain |

No Greater Love

For God so loved this sinful world, He gave us all His son; That we might live with Him one day, when life on Earth is done. No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed, And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed. The time was short for Jesus Christ, but what He gave mankind To lift our hearts and save our souls has yet to be refined. The grace and style in which He moved through politics and fools, Has paved the way for paths we trod through worldly ways and rules. His teachings spread throughout the land, His miracles renowned, He only had to touch a life to show His love was sound. Two thousand years have come and gone since Christ communed with man; And with his dying saved us all, to serve God's ancient plan. He rose from death, as He had said, and proved His word was true, That life eternal waited those who choose to suffer through. Salvation came that fateful day, the Bible tells us so; And time has shown that through God’s love the weakest spirits grow. Now, modern times are hard on us and cause us all to doubt, For change is there at every turn, and Satan’s always out. It’s now we need the love of God, for always, as before; Just lift your heart and ask for it, and see what lays in store. It’s through God’s love we handle change and how it makes us strong In ways we deal with worldly things and sort the right from wrong. For change is just another way the Lord sees fit to use To make our days seem fresh and new with paths to take and choose. It’s by our faith we live our lives and seek a brighter day, And how we find the confidence when doubts get in the way. But most of all it’s happiness that faith’s been known to give When our misfortunes come to cloud these modern times we live. We need not fear what God has wrought. We need not know His plan. We only need to know He’s there, and love’s in store for man. Just think the words you’d ask in prayer, and ere a sound be heard, His perfect love will fill your heart before you’ve breathed a word. No greater love was ever known, no greater gift bestowed, And for the love He sacrificed, no greater debt’s been owed. But God forgave our debt to Him, we live in grace today; The greatest love you’ve ever known is just a breath away.


Details | Quatrain |

Beacons of Light

As long as man has lived upon this Earth
     The quest for beacons of light has endured
Primitive cultures, man’s earliest ancestors
     Found wonder in the moon’s allure

Upon the seas, more advanced civilizations
     Made their way guided by celestial orbs
Eventually creating historic lighthouses
     To guide their navigational course

Greeks found solace in a light
     Emanating from Mount Olympus
Gods and Goddesses they worshiped
     Until the discovery of those truly blessed

God’s light serves as our beacon now
     Eternal glow that guides us through storms
And when we discover this light’s power
     The spirit of the believer transforms

Satan’s path winds only through darkness
     Images of eternal suffering emerge
When we fail to find the beacon of light
     And remove the stain of sinful scourge

It is man’s choice to pursue radiance or darkness
     The preferred path is usually lit by the bright
For just as early man perceived from the moon
     Souls are ever drawn to beacons of light


*For Wounded Words "Eternal Figures" challenge


Details | Quatrain |

STREAMS IN THE DESERT


This misty river, scented sweet From bare land you enthrall, To quench the evening's sultry heat Beside your cooling wall. Low tide lends magic to this rite To twirl upon the dew Then lacquers every sand with white; And powdered shades of blue. Tanned cacti swoon to windy breeze Quite mellow to the ear, And harmony's drooled chant can seize This desert atmosphere. Under the moon's enticing beams Bright clouds drift out in space, Life's oasis and hopeful dreams Are held in froth's embrace. And never will these scenes be lost While I here vigil keep; Till heaven's gifts lie starlit glossed Then eyelids fall asleep. . ............ . . Nature Poems Contest of Poet.Undertaker 8/6/8/6 syl count--rhyme by nette onclaud


Details | Quatrain |

A "Hopeless" Diamond (in the Rough)

French trader Tavernier in a greed-inspired way
Glared at an idol of a temple in Mandalay
Prying a gem from its eye socket, a curse prevailed
Tavernier died bankrupt soon after making the sale

Louis XIV bought the stone, 1668
A gift to his mistress, Louis had it cut heart-shape
For dabbling in Black Magic, this madam was burned
A century passed with the curse’s power unlearned

The diamond was then bestowed on Marie Antoinette
For wearing it with boastful pride, Marie lost her head
She lost respect from the commoners of her nation
This gem has since been linked to the French Revolution

Cut far smaller, the gem resurfaced, 1830
When a London banker bought the rock of infamy
Henry Thomas Hope survived; the curse appeared to break
For 70 years the Hope Diamond’s wrath lay in state

A Hope heir’s marriage collapsed; his wife evoked the curse
As she foretold, subsequent owners’ fates would be worse
French broker Jacques Colot went mad, suicide his road
Sultan “Abdul the Damned,” insane after being deposed

Then to an American the Hope Diamond was sold
Washington Post owner Maclean watched horrors unfold
Other household members died, but it was Maclean’s son
Ten years old, struck by a car, his Dad’s mind came undone

Ultra-light ray tests caused the mystery diamond to glow
With safety in mind, Hope’s eerie stone found a new home
It remained locked on display in the Smithsonian
Could it be to blame for all that’s wrong in Washington?

Tragedy also tied to raiders of King Tut’s tomb
Perhaps lessons can be gleaned from those who met their doom
Robbing temples, burial sites, outcomes always bad
Greedy souls’ quests for wealth can leave them totally mad

So don’t expect me to purchase a diamond in the rough
Considering this gem’s history, a sandstone’s quite enough


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The Whispered Song

The warrior lays her weary head, 
With heavy heart she cannot bear, 
Burning tears stream down her face, 
As whispered memories touch the ear.

Her armour tarnished by remorse, 
Her battle-cry a wimpered row, 
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude, 
Will never know forgiveness now.

The song began two score ago, 
When two came knocking at her door, 
In need of refuge from the world, 
Of that, and love, and little more.

Forced to fight for every smile, 
Her only solace found in song, 
She longed for love to rescue her, 
And plant her where she could belong.

Jealous tongues are seldom kind, 
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love, 
The caged canary only sings, 
When coaxed to praise from up above.

For the steely spine that now I own, 
Forever shall I grateful be, 
A gift from her, and from her own. 
Courage mounted inwardly.

I'll not forget how I have loved thee, 
And youthful memories I will prize, 
Til on the shore of His forgiveness, 
Whereto now, we both shall rise.



Details | Quatrain |

Death is Not the Enemy

I have found myself at the threshold of death on several occasions. Each time I managed to 
look it in the eye, doff my hat and say, “I’ll catch you up the trail.” This is not to say that I 
am some special breed of hombre that casually defies death, for there have been many who 
have gone the way before me and managed the confrontation in heroic decorum. 
Nevertheless, death is not some evil state of being that only the brilliant or daring may defy; 
nor is it a release from the severity of life. If anything, death is the threshold of eternity. Life 
provides all known qualities, conditions, trials and tribulations that we encounter throughout 
the fruition of our purpose.

Oh, death is not the enemy, for life provides our foes, The ills, disease and suffering… the countless other woes; For this is as it was ordained since Earth was yet to be, When life evolved on other planes, the eye will never see. We all embrace our time and grow in body, mind and soul. We foster wisdom, strength and faith, fulfilling every role. Prepared or not, the time will come, our form will waste away, While life goes on, as is ordained by He who plans the way. No, death is not the enemy, an end that one should fear. It’s but a threshold for the soul to doff its mortal gear, While life transcends its bond with Man to dwell forevermore With He, whose force conceived all life and is its very core.


Details | Quatrain |

Good Tidings

It's twelve days before Christmas, Love, and I am sitting here,
the hearth fire is burning bright, but on my cheek they're tears.
I hold the conch shell to my ear and call for you my dear.
Out across the briny deep a tempest cries beware.

The entry hall is full of garland, pine, spruce and mistletoe
The mirrors are all draped with ribbons, the brass all aglow
I hold the conch shell to me ear and stare out at the snow
remembering our last parting, I begged you not to go.

"Captain" said I "can you not see you take my heart from me?"
In his hand I placed a lock of hair, and a mustard seed.
He handed me a pearly conch shell from the Isle of Capri,
and bid me listen for his love song from the Southern Sea.

For twelve days, I've climbed stairs to the widows walk on high,
I clasp the token to my chest and search the sea near-by
So sad, yet sweet the mermaids sang, they of sailor's gone by.
They sang in sympathy, a song of longing with breathy sighs.

The cliff fires burn so bright now, he's coming on the tide.
The church bells are ringing now, soon they'll at anchor lie.
Had he heard me, had he called, had it been a dream I scryed?
T'was Christmas Eve and in the snow, he's landing with the tide.


Details | Quatrain |

What Where Who

What, Where, Who

If I where asked the what, where, who
That drives me to write poetry
I’d say that if I only knew
I’d leave right now this misery

But I’m afraid I’m not the sort
To answer in straight fashion
I have to offer my retort
With words of heartfelt passion

For just the other day I found
Encounter gave me food for thought
Soon the words they were outbound
Jumbled as they rushed and fought

Though ne’er the less inspired me
To battle on my way
Look toward the end and see
Which words I could display

Confess do I quite openly
That I am ignorant
Of  poetry’s technology
Coz grasp it I just can’t

I wouldn’t know a what’s it called
From a what’s its name
In my mind won’t stay installed
Confusion is its game

But I somehow, find I can
Muddle through at best
Organise a crafty plan 
And set my brain the test

For out there I see loneliness
Suffering and pain
A world in turmoil and distress
That cannot stake its claim

I look for every trait in man
Into the soul I stare
At his betrayal and flim-flam
Also the ladies fair

Dear love will always be there
And so will Demon war
And my thoughts on these I’ll share
Of that you can be sure

Laughter I would hope to bring
Sadness sometimes to the fore
Of natures forces I will sing
The list goes on galore

Yes I will write throughout the night
With hope to de-confuse
I’ll try to offer some insight
By giving up my muse

So now you know the what and where
But what about the who
Inspiring people are out there
Who knows - it could - be you 

And what about that misery
I spoke of up above
Well, I gave that up for music
Of the poetrysoupers love x




        
           






Details | Quatrain |

Ode to a rose on a sunset

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as the clouds dip into the sea.
A kiss from that rose as the waves fall,
over the beach to a rose kissed me.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
as we wrap in lovers embrace.
A kiss from a rose as homeward we go,
to a bed clothed in satin and lace.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
with passion and warmth do we grasp.
A kiss from that rose that blossoms and blooms,
my hand in her labour pain clasp.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
that wanton and curvy young bride.
A kiss from that rose that huddles our babe,
so loving, in motherly pride.

A kiss from a rose on a sunset night,
without whom I'd not share my life.
A kiss from that rose who selflessly filled,
the place of my darling rose wife!

(c) anaisanais - A M Docherty - Wales, United Kingdom. (7/8/2013)


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