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Quatrain Flower Poems | Quatrain Poems About Flower

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

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Newborn Flowers

A broken heart 
who humbly cries 
As the flames began melting 
tears hidden under the seabed

Sizzling hot a trail 
sparkles into the night sky
love comes in colors 
that kisses burn passion

Following your starlight flooding
memories are forever made pure
Even if you are not here
I can feel your warm breath 

Winking to the soul dream of dreams 
Together we can build a future palace
one without fear and pain
Destiny will be eternities shooting arrow 
 
Catching many rainbow on our roads path
Cupid strikes flying saucers land in your space 
wondering if things will ever be the same again
Captivating an angel strums tugging heartstrings 

Do you hear still the melody 
to the most beautiful song playing
Warmly exploring deeply touching tunes 
Covering the bed with rose petals 

Music plays a heartfelt chant sighs 
I miss you dearest flower forever more 
just like the desert misses rain
Whispers held on a cloud of breath beautiful 


A Collaborated Poem 
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid 
(unrhymed quatrain)

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

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Held upon a moonbeam sighs

Visions of a way forward 
raising the curtains dream magic
stepping into the spotlight view 
captivating under a harvest moon

Rocked in the cradle of thoughts 
your the flower sweetly awakening 
deeply flames warmly embrace sunshine beams 
growing beautiful rose petals tenderly touch deeply

When I trace your heart's echo 
kissing this soul softly within dewdrops 
weeping starlight tears of a breathless sigh 
where the sunbeams dance with brilliance

Golden inside your rays honey 
deliciously lights up priceless perfect 
holding the breath for a moment love 
our time shining purely unique sharing

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

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Hidden Beauty

SEA DAFFODILS

On the island of Comino
Naked rocks are burning hot,
Without mercy, sun at midday
Robs the shade from every spot.

It’s a bare desolate area, 
Here the snakes are free to crawl,
Lazy lizards meditating
Where the gnarled wild bushes sprawl.

I trudge on towards the inlet
Drawn by water cyan blue;
It’s deserted and inviting
For it’s known only to few. 

I arrive and there to greet me
On dry sand a wondrous sight
I behold, sensual, alluring
Virgin flowers dressed in white. 

----------------------------------------
*Comino is one of the islands that 
  form the Maltese Archipelago.
----------------------------------------
22nd January, 2015
Contest: Hidden Beauty
Sponsor: Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Placed: 2nd

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015

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Peaches and Cream

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)

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

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Springtime Rose

Beside a gilded wall of white a dainty bench is resting;
Victorian accents swirl about the ornate room, providing
An elegance, a beauty in each line and curve, attesting
To cultured tastes and upscale life, and hours spent deciding
What shapes and colors best would suit the airy, springtime feeling:
But looking closely, something there upon the bench reposes,
A lady's fan and soft kid gloves, their jumbled state revealing
What hasty movements cast them all aside when fragrant roses
Arrived in state with baby's breath, and some white note, nigh hidden
In bursting blooms of rainbow hue, by unknown hands delivered:
And having noted thus, the eye could not but roam unbidden
To she who holds the rose bouquet, to she who slightly shivered
With thoughts that youths so oft imagine, thoughts that made her giddy
And blushed her cheeks the color of the rosy dress cascading
With lacy ruffles from her shoulders, looking just as pretty
As her face, which looks for all the world like roses never fading;
Two lips like shiny cherries, or the poppies that she tends to,
Complexion like a creamy rose with hints of pink surrounding
The fragile outer curling of its leaves; brown eyes that send you
A warm, quick-spreading feeling, like the first hot sunrays bounding
Thro' seas of blue to make the greengrass grow. Now look, she's taking
The little note from out among the stems; perhaps with quiet
And careful steps the message could be read; I have to try it.
"My dearest Rose, I never could imagine so befitting
A name for one who does resemble all that man finds charming
In lovely blossoms: beauty surely, grace as they are flitting
In breezes sweet of scent, and frailty, which I find disarming;
So here's a gift no prettier and sweet than you. Sincerely,
A man that loves you more than you could know.



Quatrains of decapentasyllabic verse followed by a single line of iambic pentameter.
Written by Isaiah Zerbst. Published for the first time January 26, 2015.

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2015

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Flower Petals in the Wind

Though it seems like petals fell by the wind But actually the flower pushed them out One by one they would fall from the flower But somehow the wind seemed to know no doubt Soon as the petals came loose the wind blew Carried them far in the air, so privileged But the flower held firm to those last few It wasn’t letting the wind gain leverage But as the petals came loose, and wind blows Petals would dance a special loving dance Sometimes two would intertwine twice as strong Flowing was second nature like a trance Powers of the flower outweigh the wind But the petals when free get a joy ride No matter the petal, wind will get you Free to flow down, nature you must abide
Russell Sivey Entrant into Gail Angel Doyle's "Petals In The Wind" contest 1/19/2013

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

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The Peony

She bent  softly over the smooth water
Her fingers gently caressing the blue
A peony clasped to her bosom
Its petals soft and pink and true...

The artist captured this brief moment
Brush strokes telling us their story
The maiden ripe for the time of love 
The peony clothed in peaceful glory...

Ancient blossom so full bodied
Yet delicate in scent and grace
A flower captured in Asian legends
With bowing head and subtle face.  

For the flower contest..

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2010

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Sydney, My Angel

Whispered breaths, gentle breeze, blushing hearts of sanguine hue
Wings aflutter of gossamer lace, pure, gentle, delicate and true
Luminous lucence, crystalline glow, soft translucence and heavenly bloom
Beautiful glimmer in radiant sweetness, all the splendor that is you

Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2015

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Love's Flower

If love could have a color, I suppose it wouldn’t be just any common shade. I’d name it for the colors of the rose. In heaven’s hues this flower is arrayed! From chaste love’s hush of pink to heady rush that’s shown by cardinal or crimson red, the rose reveals the grades of ardor’s blush unto the time it’s thought that passion’s fled. But in the tint of amaranth, the fire endures; in purple deep it can transcend, while yellow blooms in bliss that does not tire, and white’s fidelity will have no end. Like flowers, we as mortals all will die. But memories, which our lives are full of, live on like roses' hues in our mind's eye, and in each bright color, the rose is love. 8/12/2016

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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The Rose of Poetry

I see your work budding, like a flower each new day. Slowly blooming more and more, bringing color to a time that’s gray. Your colorful petals are amazing, the way you reflect the sun. And your beauty still remains, after the beauty of the day is done. For your work radiates, here on Poetry Soup. We are all poetic flowers; part of a big garden group. I am writing this poem, to the poetic flower you are. You glisten each new day, from way, way, afar. If life was a big garden, a flower you would be. With flourished poetic petals, named the Rose of Poetry. ______________________ For Belinda Parish a fellow souper for her supportive comments.

Copyright © Raul Moreno | Year Posted 2009

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Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
this flower bed,
is just for you.

Among the stone,
and in the mud,
a flower shone,
a beautiful bud.

It grew so tall,
proud and strong,
it learned all,
right and wrong.

Giving it water,
and warm sun,
your only daughter,
learned about fun.

Mommy come see,
look what I did,
now I can be,
a grownup kid.

This flower bed,
is just for you,
with roses, red,
and violets, blue.




Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Your Beauty



Your beauty is like an everlasting fresh sunflower

On scorching days, it relentlessly grows brighter

It blooms and shines in all seasons

Spreading smiles and hope for those who’re forlorn





April 12, 2014 






Sharing with you a simple poem I wrote last year  and to greet everyone a wonderful day! Biggest hug!

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2015

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Outside My Bay Window

My house has a bay window, quite special It overlooks my great flower garden Beauty shines where the moon carries along No piece of the flowers is a burden Nightfall enlightens the flowers out there From the bay window I can see the light Touching the flowers calmly and with peace I sigh with contentment to view this sight I finish my drink and turn to go back When I glanced right at some fireflies around I smile at this beautiful scene with joy The whole picture is a wondrous surround Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2014

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TULIPS IN WHITE



    Gentle moonlight,oh fragrance sweet
With tulips you enthrall
And drench an evening's flame, complete
Beneath your misty call.

    Skyscape lends magical delight
To twirl upon the dew
Adorning petals laced in white
As glassy tints imbue.

    Under the clouds' ivory beams
Where stars dangle in space
My dream catcher's fancy redeems
The joy of buds' embrace.

    And never will this scene be lost
While I here guard the heap
Of tulips’ pearled frills, well embossed
Immaculate like sleep.



Favorite Flower Contest
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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Butterflies and Honey Bees



In the meadow, weeds flowering
By a cluster of old shade trees
Make a lovely scene attracting
Some butterflies and honey bees

Butterflies sipping each flower
Flit happily from bloom to bloom
Flaunting their wings of gossamer
Giving each other lots of room

Several colours of the rainbow
Painted on their gossamer wings
Put on a brilliant colour show
Such a happy feeling it brings

Bees also join in the feasting
Imbibing each flower's nectar
Doing so with joyful humming
In their role as honey maker

Weed flowers are in Nature's brood
Springing up where ever they please
They assist in providing food
For butterflies and honey bees



Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2014

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Bluebonnets

Springtime greenness life release
Bluebonnets  grow high
Sweetness  entanglement tastes 
Kiss on purple sky

Yesterdays bloom colors fade
Tailored vision dines 
Seeds rising to magical
Bath liquid sunshine

© 4/21/2015
 Andrea Dietrich's poetry form The 7/5 Trochee with Rhyme Scheme a/b/c/b**

Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015

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African Diaspora

The African Diaspora was when flowers were trapped & caged 

Each day I think and wanted to see them free

I see why... Your African beauty deserves to be picked

I realize that its just a figment of my imagination that their creation is truly magnificent. 

Copyright © Kamal Al-Adil | Year Posted 2013

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Wildflowers

The wildflower begins its life as a seed
Within itself it contains all it will need
Along with the rain and the sun to feed
To become something we can't it will succeed

For despite the problems that around them lie
The wildflower stays beautiful as time goes by
Not realizing we no longer stop to see
Or care anymore how fragile they can be

They continue to fill the air with their sweet perfume
But as time goes by we give them less and less room
More concrete and cities in their path now loom
I'm afraid their future could hold some serious gloom

So as down this road of life you race
The next time you happen upon a place
Where wildflowers put a smile on your face
Take the time to stop and pick yourself a vase!

©Donna Jones

Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013

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A Most Beautiful Spring Day - Quatrain By Letters

 
~A Most Beautiful Spring Day~ (Quatrain By Letters) The most beautiful day has come again There's so much for us to be thankful for The butterflies & bees fly after the rain There's so many more wonderful things in store. The hummingbirds get fed from flowers The air is so very nice and mild today The spring season can bring lots of showers The children go out and some play all day. Tending the garden a nice thing to do Trees and plants all turn green and grow The sky is clear and so wonderfully blue There's much enchantment in spring and that's so! Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2012 January.25.2015
'Quatrain by Letters' is a style created by Erich J. Goller.

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2015

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The Hummingbird



Incredibly fast and yet so tiny
Dressed in feathers that refract the sunlight
Radiating such colourful beauty
Producing a true birdwatcher's delight

Suspending a living feathery mass
Wings beating at eighty times per second
Create a blur which for a short time lasts
Then in an instant later it is gone

Busily sipping each flower's nectar
As you rapidly flit from bloom to bloom
Viewing you in your glorious splendour
Chases away any feelings of gloom

A true master of acrobatic flight
Forward, backward and even upside down
What a marvellous captivating sight
Leaving the viewer speechless and spellbound

All bedecked in luminescent feathers
Blessed with a spectacular flying mode
Radiating such beautiful colours
That is the magic of the hummingbird







Trinidad, my native island, is also called the “Land of the Hummingbird” because more than sixteen different species of hummingbird have been recorded on the island.
The indigenous Native Americans, the Arawaks, named the island, "Iere", which, in their language, means "Land of the Hummingbird".
Two hummingbirds are shown on the island's coat of arms. 



Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2015

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Beauty In Imperfection

The rugged bark of an old tree
with imperfection due to its cracks
is a wondrous thing of beauty
and it's the imperfection that attracts

We know that a star-shaped flower 
does not make a perfect star
Yet it has a certain loveliness
that induces a sense of wonder

A hand-crafted ceramic bowl
because of its asymmetry
is a wonderful artefact
that is valued very highly

An old-time cobblestone street
has a unique charm and quaintness
due to its imprecise pattern
that gives it its loveliness

Perfection is not easy to attain
and even more difficult to sustain
Beauty lies in Imperfection
and they are a natural combination


Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2013

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I'm a Little Flower

I’m a little flower
Being seared by the sun
My petals are now wilting
My life is almost done

I’m a little flower
My colors are fading fast
I’m parched to the core
And yet you move on passed

You water other flowers
Little sprinkles you give me
While I struggle to hold on
My beauty for you to see

I’m a little flower
That you once called divine
Now you have lost interest
I’m no longer glorious...fine

I’m a little flower
You’ve neglected for a while
But I’m still struggling on
Longing to see your smile…

I’m a little flower
This is my final plea
Remember my first bloom
Promise to revive me

Oh, water me, my love
My petals now caress
I’ll open as before
unfurled by tenderness

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2016

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NOT LISTENING

NOT  LISTENING


Choral gladioli  in formal circles,
Standing awkward beneath the pines’
Shade  -  their  pinks and purples
Gasping in the gloom for sunshine.

Immersed in a happy crowd mustered
Around them  - dandelions in masses
Like children in unruly jostling clusters,
A natural  attraction - yellow dresses

Dancing  to the music  of the breeze,    
Laughing  and touching heads, 
Fast growing, well  rooted -  at ease:
They want to be here, they‘re glad.

Gladioli  are ordered  there in rings
Dutifully participatory,
Rendering songs an outsider sings
In unheeding dandelion  territory.

......................................................................................
Written   27  July 2014 
(I wrote this when watching the formal beds of flowers
 in a somewhat overgrown garden in the city.)

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2014

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DAHLIA IN A WHIRL



She blinks like citrine glazed along hillsides,
Dahlia of midnight flaunts without guilt
As palette of amber strokes lustrous glides ;
To waltz evening with her bohemian lift.

Flow, flow while petals spread their vibrant blooms
On April's mural , those lips dare to tease...
Her contours trailing with velour costumes
Wildly ablaze, to ride on spring’s trapeze.

This ambrosial drift which shines ,which glows 
From heaven’s mold granting dahlia's trance
Enchanting a whirl, my shade of yellows...
Like me, she curls into a floral dance!



8.07.2016
Rick Parise's Contest:
Each one of us has His 
or Her own Flower of Attraction
-------------
~ A dahlia symbolizes spontaneity,
tender wildness, and adventure.

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

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I am a Dandelion

 
 I am a flower disguised as a weed
 Upon your lawn I will stampede
 I am a weed disguised as a flower
 My leaves and roots have medicinal powers

 I am 3 celestial bodies in one
 I awaken each morning to greet the sun
 I sleep in the evening and dream of the moon and stars
 Which are 2 of my other avatars

 Upon the wind my seeds are blown
 Carried for miles around
 But on this lawn I cannot hide
 And  I'll soon  succumb to pesticides
                   ---

-  Dandelion means Lion's Tooth -

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2015

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Treasures

Red roses you have sent
Your favorite flower and mine
A plane ticket brings us together 
In a short amount of time

Stars align just for us 
Very often you do say
Treasures in a secret box
I protect them everyday
         +++++++

Written 12-26-2015
Combination of Three Words Contest Sponsored by Laura Loo
#3 - A secret box, your favorite flower, a plane ticket
3rd Place

Copyright © Susan Gentry | Year Posted 2015

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Sensitive

I see you lying in the grass your sensitivity showing. And, with each breath of gentle breeze you blush, as your leaves are closing. Your sensitivity showing to all who share your carefree dreams. When twilight sets your hair aglow, you melt, in shadowy moon beams. And, with each breath of gentle breeze My love for you grows ever more. As you secret yourself from me, my tender feelings you ignore. You blush, as your leaves are closing tightly against the whispered wind, as if you held beneath your green secret thoughts of amorous sin.
10/17/15

Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2015

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You are an Angel

I think we are ment 
To be together source of light 
Give me one hour  
of your precious time 

I will give you 
a brand new life 
As this earth changes around 
growing inside our union 

The pathway 
is clear cut diamond 
as you command 
the rising deep ocean waves 

I warmly salted them with spices
As they rise and fall calming ocean breaths 
Softly mesmerised 
loving your beauty 

Turning the wheel 
steering this ship 
blowing in one direction sings 
I hunger your love 

Source of each other 
Can be found a million miles away 
we feast at the alter of purity 
With wings we fly together from the final table

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016

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Roses Stink

Today I stopped to smell a rose
And got a fairy in my nose.
She buzzed her little fairy wings
She kicked and punched and other things.

It kind of tickled as she fought
But all her struggling was for naught.
Like glue my boogies held her there
Her tiny frame lodged in my nare.

Some pixie dust she threw therein
And though she tried, she could not win.
It turns out I’m allergic, see
To all that dust she threw on me.

I hacked and coughed and then I wheezed
I snorted, sniffled…even sneezed
And yet despite those awful fits
Up in my nose, the fairy sits.

A nasal home where she must stay
Until she figures out a way
to climb down and my nostril breach…
She’s just too deep for me to reach.

So next time when you hear them say
to smell the roses on your way,
Recall the fairy in my sniffer
And know that my advice may differ.

05/01/15

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

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The Orchid

The Orchid
As the orchid blooms its long beautiful flower
The perfume of which fills the air hour by hour
The strength in its leave when open from bud
No decay just a little wrinkle as in age it should
 
If Orchis the son of the nymph and satyr
Had not drunk of the vine and showed his desire
As he drank long and hard at the feast of Dionysus
His eyes fell on a priestess and caused all the fuss.

He wanted her, was his drunken decree
And he didn’t care if she didn’t want he
He coveted the priestess as he drank by the hour
Determined he was soon her going to deflower.

His advances she said she would not take
But he did not listen and her he would make
But for this insult to a revered priestess
The gods were determined he’d pay for her distress

He would not go unpunished this was THEIR decree
And ripped limb from limb they decreed he would be
The bacchanalians did tear him apart and justly so
He should have accepted the priestess she  said NO!

The father of Orchis prayed the Gods would restore
The son that he loved and would for evermore
After they listened to the prayers of a father distraught
The Gods returned Orchis not as a man but as a flower they thought.

Orchis became the flower with the strange sounding name
Whose beauty enchants and its perfume does the same
The orchid, the bulbs shape we will recognise today
The part under the body, where a man likes us to play.

© 9/02/2013/~GG~

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2013