These Beauty Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Beauty. These are the best examples of Beauty Quatrain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Drawn to thy beauty, grace rains down;
I choose this drowning than a drought –
Where ten thousand are called mine own;
Yet, deny thee and live without.
Skilled not enough to understand;
Words unheard, find their voice through thee;
As I reach out then find thy hand;
I see light take darkness from me.
Chaos knits together unity:
Thoughts run free, once captive in chains;
Cleansed from fear in thy purity;
Would I leave, canceling such gains?
Such a beautiful, blooming rose,
There is no reason to be shy,
So, why let your petals close,
When the sun is low in the sky.
Daisies and daffodils arrive in spring,
But, roses are rare, delicate flowers,
Brilliant sunsets are also amazing things,
So, why shy away in the midnight hours.
A rainbow of colors shine in daylight,
Pretty pink, sunny yellow, and rosy red,
But, don't be afraid of the night,
Don't go to sleep in your flower bed.
Look up, and behold the radiant moon,
Gaze at every shimmering, falling star,
The sun will be rising again, soon,
So, wait and see these beauties that are.
You do not experience any of this,
When you only awaken in early morn,
What celestial wonders you do miss,
But, every rose must have it's thorn.
*Past silver groves of willows weeping
near a crystal stream,
I move with an excitement flowing
in my vibrant dream.
Those colors that I take for granted
in the concrete world
shine brilliantly like buds of roses
that have come unfurled.
Ahead there is a field of daisies -
wild yellow in bloom.
I’m feeling golden; such enchantment
whisks away all gloom.
Atop a hill as bright a green as
Ireland’s emerald isle -
as day’s last rays of sun shine down - is
where I’ll stay a while.
Inside my dream appears white parchment;
in my hand a quill!
Across the sky there splashes splendor;
all the earth grows still.
A white swan’s feather now dips into
ink a cobalt blue.
As sky bursts crimson, I am painting
all this dream for you!
*Past silver groves of willows weeping
is a line I borrowed from Heather Ober's "Into the Gloaming"
Written by Andrea Dietrich
For Richard Lamoureux's Pick a Line Any Line Poetry Contest
To have lived not being loved at all -
hunchbacked like a question mark-
your soul continuously on parole
imagine beauty in the dark
Perhaps we passed each other in the speed
of different trains colliding with the time
in one - abandoned newborn girl in need
the other - useless vagabond and wine.
Was it your Soul who shook the Jacaranda tree
and made it burst and rain with purple fairies?
Or just a whispered cry within the depth of me -
too much horizon and no space for prairies...
Imagine beauty in the dark
When wings demolish walls of sorrow
I'll die again an injured lark
Reborn in Phoenix bird tomorrow.
Colorful symphonies sound
As red and gold bells fall down,
Shook loose by crisp cool air,
Tinkling their way to the ground.
Displayed on the limbs of trees
Are rich orange marmalade leaves,
Visions of autumn’s dessert
Tasting sweetly on the breeze.
Autumn brews warm concoctions
With visions of perfection
And richly spiced aromas,
Which soothe our frayed emotions.
Fall’s festive nature brings out
A spirited dancing shout
And lovely celebrations
With beauty bursting about.
For: Autumn's Beauty Contest
The lady In Red
She missed out on the green silk dress; it was sold before she did buy
But when the red dress came to the store she did not let this one pass her by
The Lady in Red as she became known set out to dazzle and beguile
She would turn many a head with such a dazzling sexy smile.
This femme fatal set off, not realising the power she did now hold
The swaying of the hips, she was indeed a picture of beauty to behold
Its low cut neck did display a white décolleté of rare fine beauty
Many came and offered his hand, on one knee as was his duty
The Lady In Red was not easily won, her heart she kept hidden away
Those that tried to win her, found there was a hefty price to pay
The lady in the fire red dress, sashaying down the street
Had them stepping out of doors, and stopping cars just to meet.
One day the Lady In Red fell in love, and then the problems did start
She found there was a price to pay, when she wanted to give her heart
From praying to the devil one day, a dazzling beauty she asked to be
He answered her request with a warning; “Your soul will belong to me.”
She was willing to pay any price to wear the red dress so beguiling
She didn’t look behind her or she would have seen the Devil smiling
The fine print on her request to the Devil, she did not bother to read
‘Your heart and soul will belong to me that’s the payment for your greed.’
The Lady In Red could not give love, just sashay far and wide
Sweeping young bloods off their feet, then casting them out with evening tide
Her heart would have broken, if it was still hers to keep
The young man she fell in love with, was the one that made her weep
He promised love and devotion if only her heart she could give
When she said that didn’t belong to her, he didn’t want to live
She tried to shed some tears but the devil dried them with his fiery finger
“Next time you want something so bad, you better not let your eye linger.”
You asked for dazzling beauty, you promised you were willing to pay
Don’t come weeping to me because you have given true love away
Beauty was more important to you than a genuine heart full of love
You can take this young blood with you, and join as the hand in a glove
But this love you found, this love you desire, the price must still be paid
You can take this handsome youth, but under the ground he must be laid
His life I ask in full recompense and then your love to him you can give
But it will have to be in this lifetime, because you will not be allowed to live.
Your love is like the color of the wind
Where you surely have lovely green flared eyes
The air burns with a hot flare from above
Rage fires from deep within like one despised
Harmony displays not one keen aspect
She opens not my mind but my pure heart
May my hair envelope, my souls escape
To fill my cup with the divine impart
Her eyes, a beauty that I can’t dispel
She takes me down into the fiery depths
Passion is king and love’s an afterthought
No matter my happy heart, I have wept
It goes deeper than any caves around
Love goes beyond the boundaries we set
The wind plays it part within the grand scheme
I hope to always see and not forget
The sunlight brings cheer to our tender lives
Where the air burns like fire bringing passion
Love harbors cloudless skies that’s softly here
Where it all has brought love in pure action
She was looking my way, I had nothing to say,
Though I'd dreamed that this day would transpire;
With her beaux all around, why would she look at me
With such interest and playful desire?
She was heading my way, what on earth would I say
To the prettiest girl in the town?
And how could I bear all her sunshiny hair
Or her eyes, speckled golden and brown?
I thought, "This is the one! Mercy, here comes the sun!
If I stare, I shall surely be blind:
Though I be somewhat plain, if she choose to remain
I'd be last in the county to mind."
Then my eyes turned away as she sweetly did say
Pretty phrases I cannot recall;
And I mumbled replies, though they might have been lies,
Since I cannot remember at all.
Of that bright day in May but one thing I can say,
She was dressed in a soft yellow gown;
'Twas a lemony hue that was buttery too,
And with eight shiny pearls buttoned down.
Then I asked if she'd dance at the Cunningham's manse,
At the ball on the fourteenth of June;
She replied, "Oh, how good! Yes, I certainly would;
And I hope I shall talk to you soon."
What a wonderful day! Still with nothing to say
I just whistled an old happy tune;
Having primrosy dreams of sweet peaches and cream
As I counted the hours of June.
(Written February 12, 2014)
The dandelion sat along on the hill
watching the rose's play.
He asked to join the fun and games;
is it all right if I stay?
The rose's said, you can not play,
for you are not one of us.
Go back to your hill to your grassy clump,
and don't you make a fuss.
For we are tall with our beautiful stems
and nicely shaped leaves.
Our petals are grand,
the best in the land,
so stay away you weed.
A beautiful flower, tall and grand,
you are, the dandelion sighed.
Your petals are grand, the best in the land,
but i'd rather be pretty inside.
For the rose's and their beauty so grand,
will fade and wither with time,
but the dandelion's beauty within,
is one thing that will never die.
I heard, idle hands are the Devils workshop
So I did my very best to keep busy
I worked, worked, worked, for the future
While so many others were taking it easy
Focusing on all the goals I must reach
All the while my life was flying by
Now here I am closer to the end
Missing so much and left to ponder why
My priorities wrong, I was in need of quiet
Moments that could have refreshed my soul
Time spent in nature away from it all
Pieces of idle, meant to make me whole
The devil, keeps us out of the garden
So that we don't contemplate the Lord
He tells us it's better, to keep our hands busy
if we're too quiet we'll surely be bored
Don't get me wrong, I value hard work
Yet in excess, these become Idol hands
Searching for happy, in material things
Failing to follow my Savior's commands
Thankfully He made this burden lighter
There are quiet times filled with rest
Thankfully there's peace, within balance
From God's hands I have been truly blessed
Inspired by Mel Merrill's short poem "Be There Still".