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Quatrain Inspiration Poems | Quatrain Poems About Inspiration

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

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Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

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When will periwinkle dreams entwine with my lifesong?
  deadly winter has blanket me? [Long, ah! so long...]
Has bloody ferns swirl then froze me as falling snow
  for acrid critiques cold cloud? [T'was wrong, Oh so wrong...]

Doubts and worries weaken my weary feet
  but teeming catalysts from a compassionate God
    activate talent embers, once frozen to heat--
telling: "TRUST, GO AND START!", an alarm from above.

Bearing a faith anew, I spread my wings to fly;
  walking even over blitz agonizing talk for ply.
Cracking myself from iceberg of fears--
  twining myself to God's glory, a clear dear!

Braiding faith and hardwork in cornerstone steel,
  spirits shoot hope that guards, a powerful feel.
Unfolding gifts from long frozen hearts to burn,
  now mightily restored with heaven's love way turn...

August 22, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

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Taps to Discovery

Taps to Discovery

“Here, I’ve bought you something
Push this and the bell will ring”
But I want a real toy
Thought that tender little boy

There it stood unwanted went
While time with proper toys was spent
Then one rainy afternoon
Into his mind there came a tune

The plasticy machiney thing
He found and made that small bell ring
He struggled with intensity
To wind the paper in you see

He turned around that yellow dial
Till the letter came in line
And thumped that single key with smile
As letters formed on paper fine

Also that day, he had found
Upon that toy like typewriter 
That words could make a lovely sound
From his mind, great inviter

Of that work he was proud
Another one he’d type ’fore long
Ran to daddy, sang out loud
“Can I have a bigger, better one”.

Copyright © Richard D Seal

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The Door

Noah’s ark was real not a fiction
It had a door to escape God’s affliction
Noah delivered a warning message
But the folks mock their own presage

Men grew in sin and matured in transgression
And ignored Noah’s loving confession
The Door stood open a long time
Until time begin to climb

The Lord finally shut the Door
And the rain begin to pour
120 years of grace finally came to a halt
God administered judgment by default

The Door was a glorious type of Christ
He was the Lamb of God who was price
Jesus said “I am the Door of the sheep”
He is the only Door of that Great ship

Jesus is our Door of salvation
Wherein we enter and float as new creation
Behold He stands at your door this day and knock
Let Him in, you’ll find pasture as a partaker of His Holy flock

Then said Jesus unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the door of the sheep- John 10:7

Copyright © Gideon Foli

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What Nine Plagues Could not Do

Israel had been under tyrant oppression
God sent Moses to redeem them from suppression
He promised to manifest His sign and wonder
And extend His Finger of Power over Nut, the god of thunder

Nile was like a sea of blood on the first day of the plague
The magicians were dumbfounded and vague
Nile hitherto served as Egypt National cake
Became ravaged as millions of creatures died in the lake

On day two, God brought frogs from Nile
They died and stink along the foe’s mile
Thus, Jeshurun judged Heqet of earth
The frog goddess of birth

On the third day God administered judgment on Zet
The ‘mighty’ and the dreadful, he was the god of the dessert
Magicians marveled at the miracle of Moses’ rod
And declared to Pharaoh, “This is the Finger of God”

On the fifth day God judged the goddess Hathor
She was the spirit of cattle, a violent author
He slays her cattle and plagued them with boil
Amidst it all Pharaoh’s heart was harden like a golf ball

On the seventh day, God plagued Egypt with Hail
The sky goddess Nut was attacked and jail
In all these Israel was not affected
He was miraculously covered and protected

On the ninth day Egypt was clothed in a cloak of darkness
Nevertheless Pharaoh’s heart was still heartless
But the home of the righteous was as a nimbus of radiant light
As the glory of the Lord has risen upon their plight 

God judged Isis the ‘Protector’ as the first fruits were killed  
 In this plague was the scripture fulfilled
They overcame him (Isis) by the blood of the lamb
And by the steadfast confession of faith in ‘I AM”

Satan is a destroyer and a ‘blackmailer’
But Christ is our redeemer and our healer
What the nine plagues couldn’t do
The blood of the Lamb gave a clue

By faith he (Moses) kept the Passover and the sprinkling of the blood, lest he who destroyed the firstborn should touch them. Hebrew 11:28

Copyright © Gideon Foli

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Friendly Inspiration

Words of a friend greet me this morning
As a smile returns to a once barren face
They enliven my spirits, exciting me deep
What once was despair, my friend has erased

Alive in a feeling, where thoughts now permit
Come words through a voice, that echo within
I’ll write them all down, allowing my thoughts
To form into poems for you then again

Copyright © Michael Degenhardt

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Struggles and success, Sufferings and happiness, Dreams and Goals building to life; Like colours of the rainbow making light.
A blessed day for you my dear readers :) Cheer Up, God bless

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana

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Mountain Lake Inspiration

Mountain Lake is my favorite place to write
under shade tree are my pencil, paper, and pole.
Scribble down words while waiting for a bite
fishing my most popular angling hole.

Fish are jumping all around hook and line
small cork sits still and does not move or fade.
Patiently I sit in wait for that fish to dine
beneath weeping willow of cool tree shade.

Inspiration overwhelms biding snare
while creative mind laggardly transcends.
In far distance I see lone grizzly bear
and leave a good fishing pole to his friends.

Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey

Copyright © Caryl Muzzey

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Solar Eclipse

There's something I feel that I still haven't said,
Quotes that haven't straddled my lips.
When poetry wheels don't turn in my head,
Words can cast a solar eclipse.

©2012 Honestly JT

Copyright © Honestly J.T.

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One More Step

Every day I climb some stairs
A few steps here and few more there;
One by one until I’ve found
The destination where I’m bound. 

Some days my steps are small and sure
Never less and never more; 
Always ground in gravity’s grace
Never questioning my own place. 

But other times while in the dark
I stumble looking for my mark; 
While moving upwards, homeward bound
Not knowing what might soon be found. 

And so I move each day I live
Praying for one more step to give;
Myself another view of life
And chance to see the stars at night. 

One more step to the rooftop high
Where all good climbers reach and strive;
For one more sunrise, one more set
And all I ask is one more step. 

Copyright © Terrell Martin

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We will cherish these moments
Because they are few,
But please always remember
I will always love you.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

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Not The Same Without You

It's not the same without you;
The days are rainy and the nights are blue.
My heart is crying and God is too,
But we are smiling, waiting here for you.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

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Beautiful, Glorious Day

Run, run, run and give it all up!
Into His arms, commend your love!
Through Him, you are saved!
What a beautiful, glorious day!

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

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The Break Of A New Day

It's another North Carolina morning,
Just before I see the sun rise.
To lighter blue the sky is turning,
And nature wakes opening her eyes.

©2013 Honestly JT

Copyright © Honestly J.T.

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The Robbery

Rob me of my purity,
But once again it's all my fault;
Fell into the trap of false promises
Because I pressed play instead of pause.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

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The Heart Of The Ocean

You pick me up and fly me away;
Oh my baby, what a beautiful day!
Like a rock, you are strong to withstand the motion,
And your love runs deep, the heart of the ocean.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin

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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

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

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I Am The Lily Of The Valley

Look for my pure white bell heads,
bowed low, as if in prayer.
And you'll find me by my fragrance,
sweet smelling in the air.

Bees love me for my pollen,
Women for my perfume.
And my snow white lily flowers,
in a bride's bouquet bloom.

When Jesus Christ was crucified,
and died for me and you,
Mary's tears fell on the ground,
and on that sacred spot, I grew.

You'll find lilies in the Bible,
mentioned fifteen times.
"I am the Lily of the Valleys" (S of S 2:1)
And I live in many minds.
Lily Of The Valley means: Humility, sweetness and purity. 
It is said to bring luck in love, that's why brides use it in
their bouquets. Spiritual meaning: Jesus (Lily of the Valley is 
one of the many names Jesus is called.

Note: There is a famous song, the refrain goes:
"He's the Lily of the Valley, the bright and Morning Star.
He's the fairest of ten thousand to my soul.

For Andrea's "I Am A Flower" Contest

Copyright © Darlene Gifford

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Just Let the Poet Be

Don't ask too many questions
Don't try too hard to see
It's literary license
And that's how it should be

Don't go and form opinions
'bout what the poem means
Divorce poet from poem
It's better far, it seems

Once the rhyme is written
It has a life it's own
Don't delve into the heart now
Don't look for what's not shown

Just love the words and nuance
The passion that's in each line
Unless you have permission
To snoop is just not fine

I say this to all poets
But I say it most to me
I'd save a heap of trouble
If I just let the poet be.

Eileen Manassian

I worry sometimes that people will ask too many questions about my personal life from having read a poem. You just have to let the poem speak for itself. Believe me....this advice comes FIRST to me. I tend to wonder about inspiration as well. If we do one is going to want to write. Thanks, y'all!

Copyright © Eileen Manassian

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Wheels Rollin'

1 o'clock in the morning the alarm is loudly screamin'
I go wake up my brother who probably is still dreamin'
We jump in the car and the wheels start rollin'
Can't wait to pick up the papers and start strollin'

A smile planted on our face! The day is finally starting
The headlights shine bright! The animals are darting
Ah! Windows down breathing all the fresh air
My brother gathering papers with all of his care

Wheels steadily rollin down the road
Nothing is in sight, not even a toad!
Newspapers start soaring through the air!
Do I want this to end? No! I wouldn't dare

Starting to run out of papers as the sun is rising
Listening to the birds chirping is quite energizing!
I look over towards my brother to see if he is still awake 
Bless his heart! He has fallen to sleep, he really needed a break!

I throw the last paper and I began to yawn
The paper lands perfectly on that last lawn
Wheels rollin' as we head back to the beginning
Should this much fun be considered sinning?

Copyright © Becca Kock

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(3 May 2014;  For my son Steven, an ACCOMPLISHED guitarist)

Real musicianship can truly drive you nuts—
There really are no “ifs”, “ands”, or “buts”.
Practice, study, memorize, then more practice--
Is this just an obsession or complete madness?

Learning chord inversions, arpeggios, and scales
Is like reaching Heaven by crossing through seven Hells.
It wouldn’t be bad if there were only a dozen majors,
But there’s also those other dozen minors.

What’s worse, it seems we’re never finished
Because there’s also augmented and diminished,
The major/minor/augmented/dominant sevenths.
And symmetrical double-flatted diminished sevenths,

And if this harmonic mess is not enough,
All those dissonant Jazz chords get really tough…
Such as the sustained seconds and fourths,
The sevenths add nines, sixths, blah-blah-blah, elevenths.

And if learning all this isn’t already extraordinary,
There’s music theory and music vocabulary.
Instead of just saying “get louder”, you have to “crescendo”,
Or for “fast” or “slow” you say “allegro” or “lento”.

Then there are names like Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, 
Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, and Locrian.
(All being modes derived from scale C-major,
Plus each major scale also has a relative minor)

Multiple pattern exercises on guitar fretboards
Are even worse than finger drills on piano keyboards.
Worse, the string tuning on a six-string acoustic guitar
Is not quite the same as on a 4/5/6/7-string bass guitar.

It’s hard to get up on stage and routinely play
That same song, for the umpteenth time, in an inspiring way.
No wonder musicians seem to all suffer manic-depression,
From trying to play a full sets with unique expression.

All the advances in music equipment and technology
Bless and curse musicians like two-edged swords, you see,
Because all this work they do to sound like a maestro or genius
Can be counterfeited on a computer by a musical ignoramus.

But computer geeks won’t ever find that special place,
That fugue-like subtle sacred state of grace,
Which for brief moments is like deep meditation.
No, that’s the forbidden domain of the real musician.

To suggest that musicians all are just “gifted” naturally,
Is the absolute superlative worst insulting irony.
Truly, real musicianship can drive you nuts—
No, there really are no “ifs”, “ands”, or “buts”.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday

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A Glimpse of Heaven

This poem is a description of a glimpse of what I saw in Heaven.  Heaven is a reality.

There’s a glorious place called heaven
A place so imperial, a haven
A sight that is indescribable
A home that is incomparable

An elegance of design
A beauty, forever shine
The crowning of architecture
The dumb foundness of structure

Is the work of the Mastercraftman
Jesus Christ, the saviour of man
He designed it and built it
As the home of just spirit

The roof so exquisitely glazed
A kind to admire and be dazed
A glittering floor of jasper stone
A work that awestruck to the bone

A mansion walls of sapphire
A moment of an eye catching fire
The stairway sparkled like clear glass
An intricate pattern of class

As I gaze in amazement before me
I was enveloped in joy, peace and glee
The fragrance in the room ravished my heart
Overwhelmed with awe, I never wanted to depart

The Poet Preacher © 2014

Copyright © Gideon Foli

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Only The Poet Knows

Unheard are the melodies
playing only for the composer
his fingers to the piano keys
sending the music to your ears.

The scene exists in his mind
only for an artist's vision
then inspiration you will find
when he applies paint to canvas.

I hear the words inside of me
which your ears are unable to
yet, you will see what I see
when I put it on the page.

Written by: Kelly Deschler  motif: philosophical

Copyright © Kelly Deschler

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Snowflakes Floating

Snowflakes floating from the sky twirling, then settling down, they're in a race with each other to see which one first, hits the ground. Copyright © Cynthia Jones Feb.13/2013 It's starting to snow and this is a little something, I just came up with.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones

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A Forever Smile

No matter what you're going through
It only lasts a while
Only one thing lasts forever
That's your beautiful smile

Copyright © Michael Wyms

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When spines of hardcover are marked with ink
upon their pages, old cedar drifts on
through brownish sheaths wrapped in pulp, distinct
with plots and main characters long forgone.
And my thoughts journey unto realms untold 
entering regions from another time,
along a nook, books perch on shelves grown cold
yet, I linger on quotes, both raw and sublime.  

The lamplight from the room glistens inside
to spark turn of scenes, a climax, an end, 
while endless gasps roll on night’s ebbing tide
until the heroes’ plight I now befriend.

Near the door, Grandma calls a bit louder
in her library, we somewhat allow
flicks of reading, laughing; and just out there
meal is served . I leave this haven, for now.

In The Library Contest, Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © nette onclaud

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The Pen

The pen's a sword for carving poems.
A wand for measuring beats.
A whip to keep the rhythm
and a stick to tap the tweets.

It's silent to the ear-drums
when heard inside the head.
Words firmer than my chin bone
in notes from what seems dead.

It points to things I question
and scribbles errors I make.
And when it writes some new stuff
forgives me my mistake.

At rest upon my paper
it signals that I'm done.
And when I go to grab it
I'll click it just for fun.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod

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They call her a daydreamer 
with eyes that sparkle like stars;
Her wishes, flecks of glitter,
enticing, she'll  steal your heart

Light floods, glowing her desire,
Illuminating the  path;
A compass points to inspire,
staring back, she's a photograph

They call her a daydreamer 
that smile will magnetize; 
One glance causes quite a leer
Her ideas hypnotize.

Copyright © Melani Udaeta

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We,re too far from our praying when 
we should seek out his face.
We're too long, deep in mourning when 
the heart should feel God's grace.

We're too long keeping silent when 
the voice inside says, 'why?'
We're too long sitting dormant when 
the body cries out, 'try.'

We're too soon apt to follow when 
we should go forth and lead.
We often say, 'tomorrow,' when 
it's now that people need.

We're too soon prone to argue when 
to whisper wins the day.
We're too slow to the rescue when 
a child is in the fray.

We're too soon prone to crying when 
each prayer is answered, friend.
We're too long slaves to fears and yet 
the soul is quick to mend.

We often think of having, and 
forget where need is great.
We often hear those hurting and 
should be there to relate.

We're too slow being contrite when 
our knees is where we pray.
We often beg to see light when 
God's here to lead our way.

We often act so selfish when 
we need to do what's right.
By learning what to cherish we 
will always stand upright.


Copyright © Brian Baumgarn

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Speak anger to my soul;
Let your emotion go.
Come, take control,
So blood with ink will flow.

©2014 Honestly JT

Copyright © Honestly J.T.