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Success Quatrain Poems | Quatrain Poems About Success

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

Details | Quatrain |

Perseverance



Perseverance is surely the name of the game With every challenge before you It applies to the highest mountains you climb Ignoring distractions is the clue Roadblocks are there to test your patience The glitter of gold clouds your eyes Keep your nose to the proverbial grindstone Much success will be yours by and by I certainly haven't achieved all my goals But employing this theory through the years Has enabled me to increase the likelihood Of avoiding many heartaches and tears Working hard with the goal of cooperation Bendability when shown a new path You'll ultimately be placed in a higher standing Great success will be yours at last In closing please remember this friendly advice To assist you in climbing life's tree Compassion and patience are all important But perseverance is surely the key © Jack Ellison 2013


Details | Quatrain |

A LEGACY SPAN

A LEGACY SPAN Daily my precious gift my one and only life A life which someday may run old and dry Everytime it's prick with knife and strife A continuous battle flaming how or why A day to be with family then bond A whole day sharing time with friends A day to roam, reminisce the land A Church day to praise and transcend Sometimes, I will meet and kiss rainfall However, I shall stand ~ try understand Over heartaches and a jar painful I wear my gear and take full command Each Day, I will first stir the urge To anyone needing some time I will share opting not to splurge To love and care my finest rhyme A passing day will forever gone My life sparks with Master plan All things that's done and undone My dusts dispels a legacy span _____________________________________________ (c) olive_eloisa 3:44pm January 12, 2014


Details | Quatrain |

Pop Can Sally

Pop can Sally stock my pop.
Push the new stuff back!
Bring the old stuff to the front
and space them just a crack.

Sell me one to quench my thirst
but make me get my own.
Reaching further to the back
where cooler ones are known.

Take my change from out of pocket.
Thanks for this cold pop.
Refreshing when I pull it's tab
and help to blow it's top.

Guzzling down what rushes out
and soon to quench my thirst.
Swallowing it quickly now;
allowing it to burst.

Empty now a once full can.
Thirsty nevermore.
Thanks to Sally and her pop.
The Pop Can Sally Store.


Details | Quatrain |

A Nibble

They started at the break of day
For happy day of fun.
Each hoped to catch a mess of fish
Before the day was done.

They hurried to remembered spot
Where they'd had past success,
To cast their bait from a high wall,
With some skill, more or less.

These siblings wanted to surprise
Their unsuspecting mom.
The sweet, young miss was Eloise,       (Ell-o-wise)
Her brothers Jack and Tom.

At first the fish refused to bite,
But these three persevered.
And each went home with their fair share
Before sun disappeared.

For Edmund Blair Leighton contest


Details | Quatrain |

How Sweet It Is

No twelve-step indulgent spree
for getting over you.
She’s forgetting in a hurry,
two steps will have to do.

First, she will handle her grief
Spinning one-eighty degrees,
one short cry and she’s debriefed.
Mission accomplished with ease.

Next, she’ll deal with her revenge
After all, she’s human too
Hundred-to-one you’ll come unhinged
when you see her with you know who.

Entering into rest at last
interesting truth she finds…
scars healed quickly; tears are past;
you are a load off her mind.


Rick, This placed 10th in P.D. (Linda A) How Sweet It Is contest


Details | Quatrain |

pirated words

I stole this poem
with cutlass and eyes
words lusted and trusted 
so I took of this prize

it's chests of golden
it's flashing jeweled verbs
and left letters worthless
to be picked by the birds

sailing 'cross bleached pages
under azure blue skies
I stole of my own life
and took what implies

existence on dangerous sees
to the edge of the earth and
boarded keyboard south of the keys
taking every word of worth

pillaging the hapless literati
demanding chains and trinkets
relieving authors boasting haughty
of bootied lines me think it's

better to hold to bright sun 
to see glint in the daylight
some pirated pentameter outdone
without sword of pen to fight

so hang me dashed by a yardarm
an' tell lies of me glories
whilst takin' maidens in arm
regaling wild legended stories

but, me matey, ye'd better beware
of plagiarists fast on your tale
'cross oceans of notions they dare
pirate your own words to unveil

to their own laughing lasses and crew
drinking and toasting remembrance of you
what's a pirating plagiarist to do?
- but pirate a poem out of the blue

aaarrgh matey - 
        I'll be takin' them lines now...

© Goode Guy 2012-12-13


Details | Quatrain |

Both Sides for Me

The look of pity on the saleswoman's face said it all
my paint spattered clothing, however the jeans fit
just didn't have that panache, chic pizazz, tongue hanging
inspiration for desire a young woman out to have.

The car dealer took one look at me, led me to the far
corner of the lot, showed me the used hot rods
the beater four doors, the budget cutters like I'd rode
but I wanted glossy black, silver hood ornament, brand new.

Paint is supposed to sit on top of your nails, but underneath
is advantageous when compared to oil, to muck, to dirty guts
so I was a step on the ladder of the working man, 
I could even afford to buy hose, which I still don't wear.

There's something to be said for the over glasses, safety 
glasses look, white paper coat, something comical 
one supposes, but the purple overalls worn for skiing
which suddenly I could afford, made me my nephews joke.

At times I waited for a date who preferred the bar
called and said maybe later, because passion rumbled
between us when we kissed but I didn't want a flit,
disease, broken promise, I wanted to be embraced

Cozy now, body motion are promises and content
passion is beyond me, the bar on the patio in back
the hand I always hold a missing app that answers
more lonely than any mistaken wish that he'd be the one.

Stars, too, I climbed to them in my dream, climbed
the Space Needle and found my self with no safety net
I always avoided those climbs the dreams more nightmare
even though I do what I am told, to reach, to soar.

Sometimes now I wear black on gold dresses which fit
to the nth inch, so I can barely sit, hold champagne
to watch golden bubbles float against the elegant
white linen against starry night event, that's rich, success.

Dump it gladly for a romp on the beach, the missing
something like threads through a woven maze,
like an angel's hope. When I dump it all and seek
there's grace lying on the shores between the rocks

a pooled place where deer come to lick minerals,
boulders come unglued and sail down river
and think, maybe I could do that. Maybe I could
unglue all the expectations and rearrange the world.