Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


Quatrain Time Poems | Quatrain Poems About Time

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

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 | |

Frosted Panes - re-post

                                   
When winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again
In that old house, where you wove that coloured tapestry
With all the glorious memories of your life upon the sea

With weathered palm so deeply etched with every season past
You rubbed a porthole in the center of the frosted glass
Where outside in splendour lie a winter-wonderland
As halos rose above your head from a pipe bowl in your hand

And there upon a rocking chair as smoke rings filled the air
We rocked across a sea of dreams wind tangled in our hair
To lands I’d never been before we stepped upon those shores
And through your eyes I saw each one and still I wanted more

The morning passed in dreams between two pairs of eyes of green       
As the world outside held its breath in a sea of snowy cream
And when the chill of winter melted from the windowpane
The whistling kettle on the stove brought us home again

You held my hand and looked at me with that twinkle in your eyes
And told me you would be my Captain 'til the day I died
So when winter paints those frosty ferns on my windowpane
I find myself a little girl up on your lap again 

             ~~~~~


Written:  Jan 15, 2011

Author:  Elaine George
First Place in Brian Strand's contest:  Let's See
4th   Place In - Anything goes contest

In loving memory of my Dear Papa 'Captain James George'.


Authors Note:
When I was a child of three, I Went to live for a year with my Grandparents in Nova 
Scotia. At that time my Grandfather was a retired Sea Captain of a Three Mast 
Schooner. He had spent most of his life at sea, taking lumber and coal to New 
Brunswick and various ports in the U.S. and in the winter months, would carry on  to 
pick-up and deliver  cargo in the  West Indies. Although my time with him was short, 
the memories we shared have comforted me through-out the years.  
~~~~~


   
 


 


Details | Quatrain | |

Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.


Details | Quatrain | |

Mirror, Lie to Me

I stare at my mirror
So shocked by what I see
There is a strange woman
Staring right back at me

I must’ve been abducted
This must be a crazy trick
For the reflection that I see
Is making me quite sick

Are those horrid wrinkles?
Is that a double chin?
The neck that was my joy
Is pillar like- not thin!

My eyes have no sparkle
They look listless and glazed
Perhaps it’s hard to focus
When I feel so dazed

Maybe it’s just a dream
From which I will awake
For how could that be me?
I’m sure it’s just a fake

I pinch myself real hard
The mirror woman screams
Oh no, it must be true
Now both of us cry streams

Mirror, you’re a traitor!!!
Mirror, this is a crime!!!
I order you to hide!!!
The tell-tale signs of time!!!

Do me a small favor
Tell me a little lie
Reflect a younger me…
Oh please, give it a try!

Eileen Manassian Ghali


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 | |

Another Day

A torch carried on forever, indeed,
for the aggressive rhymer in me,
is alive again, unshackled and freed,
rising to challenge another day, I see.

As I found myself lost deep in Tolkien,
with epic Star Wars, never ending,
surrounded in a geek paradise, serene,
optical illusions before me, suspending.

Life's songs on guitar strings strummed,
an epiphany unlike they've ever heard,
euphoric dreams in my visions hummed,
as I pen archaic word after archaic word.

Artistry is born only to be my brother,
encircled this star, a pentagram made,
my day is done, I have conquered another,
as the sun slowly brings down the shade.






A Word Collage For Chan Hurst



(Cyndi MacMillan's contest)


Details | Quatrain | |

Two Brothers Known as Time

One brother, not well-liked by me,
is friends with early light.
Born in a prior century,
he measures day from night.

He comes with neither fangs nor claws,
and yet it makes me cringe
to see him at my door because
he darkens evening’s fringe.

I much prefer his modern kin,
who from man’s tampering,
keeps coming round and round again
to greet us in the spring . . .

A rescuer this younger one!
His middle name implies
he lengthens days by helping Sun
prolong light in the skies.

That brother, Daylight Saving Time,
the one I like the best,
departs each fall. Oh, what a crime
He’s not a constant guest!


For the SAVING DAYLIGHT Poetry Contest of john lawless


Details | Quatrain | |

From There To Here.

As you ponder each turn that has landed you here,
taut tempo will quicken and frail futures loom near.
Take one somber moment, step away from the din:
The voyage, the detours, the past and what's been.

You look back behind you to retrace every mile.
It bring tears of regret and the trace of a smile.
Hang on first, then let go, due to whimsy or age.
What you keep in the end is the test of a sage.

Fools still ignore the supreme ticks of the clock,
in each change in fashion, embraced by the flock.
Walk on and ignore them, don't bother to chide,
these pathetic lemmings swept away by the tide.

Peer off in the distance as you fight off the chill.
You must climb still further to the top of the hill.
Play the tailor to time, cut and trim, make it fit.
Find the time in your life. Take time to enjoy it.


Details | Quatrain | |

Cry In The Dark

As you cry in the dark and your tears find the pillow
You think I don't know, those tears filled with such sorrow
Are for that long ago love, then comes tomorrow
I wish for today, your heart I could borrow

Dreams filled with the memory of her face
Wisps of her hair, visions of ribbon and lace
The look in her eyes, another time and place
I wish this from your mind, I could forever erase

But war time came and took you away
And never knowing your fate, day after day
Time took its toll, as time will do
She went on with life, her life without you

As I cry in the dark and my tears find the pillow
You'll never know, these tears filled with such sorrow
Are those longing for love, again comes tomorrow
I wish for today, your heart I could borrow

©Donna Jones




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 | |

Cup of Love

It is a family tradition 
Passed from year to year
That we spend together 
And celebrate with cheer

As the first snowflakes fall
We hear mama’s voice call
"It’s time for hot cocoa;
Come one and come all"

She asks nothing in return
Just quality time to share
Making each cup special
To show how much she cares

Now anxiously we wait
When leaves begin to fall
That cup of love to come
With winters first snowfall


Copyright © 2009 Lena “Lolita” Townsend


Details | Quatrain | |

A Bit O' Ireland

If you've ever lain and dreamt in fields of clover,
Then you'll understand what I'm about to say.
Oh, the first time that I saw my bonnie darlin',
'Twas thar upon that hill so far away.

In the springtime when the clover's mixed with flowers
And their fragrance fills the breeze that gently blows,
'Twas the time when I first held you in my arms dear,
With a feelin' only those in love can know.

So you see as I lie dreamin' in the clover
And the soft breeze blows in waves across the green,
Is the time when thoughts of you flow through my mind love,
With a feelin' only heaven's ever seen.


Details | Quatrain | |

Reality Check

What should I say to describe this empty feeling,
 like I'm missing something I could call Home.

How would I come to deny a thought revealing,
 given time and place, I'd invent my own.

A time spent in a state of agonizing pain,
 A place of worship I would not forgive.

Only the mind undoes the past through vision gained,
 in boundless timeless Love it all but lives.


Details | Quatrain | |

Fireside Conversation

Unravel your ego
sit down for a spell
Let the cool green glass
of deception dispel
Wind all your hair 
'round the wheel and dissolve
Tell me your story
and we'll be involved
You will be captain
and I your first mate
in the skies of forgiveness
pop bubbles of hate
We'll write out our names
with invisible ink
and laugh 'till we hadn't 
a thought left to think
Sipping hot cocoa
'round fires of trust
we'll bandage depression
with cider and rust
and blow concentration
'till wishes ensue
and glisten in glass 
like reflections of you


Details | Quatrain | |

Eternal Everlasting Joy

Sometimes, I think about my life
And the prices I have paid
All the places I have been
The choices I have made

Seems somewhere along the path
I stumbled upon a stone
At that moment I realized
I’d forgotten my way home

My home became a prison cell
My memory was forgotten
My soul was like an egg
An egg that had gone rotten

Sorry I had to go away
You didn’t deserve my shame
I moved very far away
No connection to my name

My life has always been a lie
One I kept hidden from you
When you thought I was in college
Serving time up in the zoo

On the day I was released
You thought I graduated
The moment you were most proud
Another lie to be hated

I have learned it’s never to late
I believe those words are true
Grandma I’m on a mission
I will graduate for you

I really want to earn the pride
You gave me so long ago
I think it will bring some peace
Releasing guilt up in my soul


I’ve learned in the game of life
We must earn our pride
Even if the people are gone
Resting on the other side

I’ve learned in the game of life
Even though they may be hard
Choices aren’t like rolling dice
They're not like flipping cards

Choices define who we are
I know these words are true
Every choice I know make
Are bringing me back home to you

Grandma, I know where heaven is
It’s right here inside my heart
Inside of mine your memory
Until death will never part

During the time I have left
I vow to always let it show
All the seeds you sowed in me
I shall nourish as they grow

In the end I’ll sit with you
Just like when I was a boy
We’ll sing and praise Jesus’ name
With eternal everlasting joy




Details | Quatrain | |

BC Had Greatness

B.C. has been the acronym applied 
for all events before out dear Lord’s birth.
Who knew another god would change the tide
and wield a power of great global worth?

To what do I refer? Or have you guessed
the god to which we each now bow our head?
No matter our religion, all are blessed
with this thing vital as our daily bread.

It took away the jobs of common men
and gave new jobs to geeks. You now must know
this god of our new world, who loves all sin
as well as good, has nothing it won’t show!

I think “Before Computers” seems a way
to say A.D.  became a new B.C.
Now things have changed so much that I would say
that my own past is ancient history!

Before Computers, life was not so fast,
and even in the 90’s I could keep
abreast of news and make my free time last.
High-tech today both makes me thrill and weep!

More time for family, a slowed down pace,
more time for God; I weep for things we’ve lost.
yet thrilled am I to see the human race
now bonding. But we do it at what cost?

Our children growing lazy, rude, and fat
and less connected, addicts to a phone!
To play outside. . . . Do you remember that?
B.C. meant doing more things on your own.

With jobs, our kids and all our lives at stake,
we now embrace our new computer age,.
Omitting our true God is the mistake
that might well do us in; we must be sage!

Recall the values getting left behind
as into this computer age we cruise.
Look back to decades past and you will find
B.C. had greatness that we must not lose.


For Deb's Contest (B.C. = Before Computers)


Details | Quatrain | |

A Ripple In Time

An angel kissed a ripple
Onto a glassy sea
And in that very instant
A baby came to be

A hundred times she kissed it
A hundred thousand more
Each time the troubled surface
More troubled than before

The ripples started crossing
And people crossing too
In time made each their ripple
Like as that ocean blue

So here is my petition
Oh Jesus, hear my plea!
That all my parting wavelets
Be marked in time for Thee


Details | Quatrain | |

Questions Unanswered

Another day comes
another one goes
and when it will end
no one really knows
time marches faster
with each passing day
as I'm watching life
just slipping away.
The hours tick by
as into the night
hurting and hopeless
devoid of my light
I'm seeking answers
to set my mind free
should I keep trying
or should I still be?
Where am I going
and what should I do
am I a failure
who's washed up and through?
The rest of the days
that I have left here
surely are numbered.
my heart sheds a tear.
So much time wasted
so many dreams killed
I feel my heart quake
another tear's spilled.
The morning draws near
no answers I find
searching these chambers
alone in my mind.
Do I have value
and what is my worth
am I just wasting
my time on this earth?
Answers evade me
as time ticks away
my heart is weeping
as I kneel to pray.
Dear God please tell me
please give me a sign
am I just crazy
by my own design?
Will I be able
to conquer my pain
or will I always
feel like I'm insane?
What is my meaning
where do I fit in
before my life's through
why did it begin?
Questiond unanswered
I notice the sun
another day's over
another's begun.


Details | Quatrain | |

The Old Shoe Box

The Old Shoe Box

A box of old shoes under the stair,
Discarded, unwanted, no matching pair.
No longer needed, pushed out of sight.
Resigned to this box, and a fast fading light.

Soft supple leather with creases to spare, 
Polished and nourished with infinite care,
Deep, deepest red, black cherry hue,
Once, long ago, a fine ladies shoe.

Dirty old canvas all tatty and frayed,
Laces have gone with age they have strayed.
Way back in time in Olympics it shone,
The end of an era, the last race is run.

A crusty old boot with steel in the hide,
Remembers the days the land it would stride,
Helped build this country relished the role,
Undaunted, unbowed, grit in the sole.

A soft velvet slipper its partner long gone,
Lies quiet in the box while the world moves along,
Once in a while a pale silken glove,
Holds it so gently and strokes it with love.

Such a wearisome time in this box of rejects,
What happens now? What happens next?
Each knows the answer. No use debating.
It’s the end of the line, and Heaven is waiting.
~~~~


Written after a visit to a local nursing home.....
21st January 2010 


Details | Quatrain | |

The First Time Ever I Saw Your face

The first time ever I saw your face
It was at the wrong time and in the wrong place
There was no coffee bar but a castle for two
That’s the first time, that I ever saw you.

The look of surprise and of love shone my way
No discomfort no shyness made a wonderful day
The first time ever I saw your face
I never thought it would really take place.

The touch of your hand on my waiting fingers
The spark of love still sits there and it still lingers
The first time ever I saw your face
My eyes closed, I can feel where my fingers did trace.

To learn the lines and the smile that I love so much
To feel the warmth of your heart in every tender touch
The first time ever I saw your face
That now haunts me and fills every single space.

A face that looks my way, although from afar
A face I see next to mine, that shines as a star.
The first time ever I saw your face
Is embedded in my heart and will never be backspaced.

© 1/12/2012~GG~



Details | Quatrain | |

YESTERYEAR'S MELODY

A melody from yesteryear 
Plays softly on the wind--
A mix of myrrh and honey,
A wistful sweet and bitter blend.

Fond memories of bygone days,
Of long departed friends.
Of hollyhocks and lilacs,
A reverie that never ends.

A vision of a one-room school
Set in a woodland glade--
Of children playing joyfully
There in a spreading oak tree's shade.

A farmer toiling in his field
Behind a horse and plow.
No air conditioned tractors
As modern farmers do it now.

A rustic, weathered, country church,
A Sunday morning bright
Glows fondly now in memory,
Bathed in nostalgia's hallowed light.

A barefoot boy with fishing pole
Beside a lazy stream.
A song in perfect harmony 
Played in that golden summer dream.

Oh memories, sweet memories
Locked in my soul to stay.
Oh melody, sweet melody,
A haunting song of yesterday. 


Details | Quatrain | |

Find My Way

Darkness is killing my will to fight
The way to climb beyond my scope
Searching for a ray of light
In an oasis called hope

Feel like a stranger in my house
Drying inward from the edge
Climbing like a spider
Got stuck in my own web

The clouds in the sky
Add to my tears
The balloons in my hand
Do not bring me cheers

Nothing to push me down from here
I can only jump without fear
I break the balloons, I dare the rain
I splash in my web full of my tears

Here I come, you can push me away
I will find my way to dodge you away
Not everytime can I go astray 
A day will come I will find my way


Details | Quatrain | |

As Far As I Can

Sore to the bone
Running on a drop of energy
Just gotta push through
I'll rest eventually

My shoulder has gone numb
But my body feels her weight
As if she's gotten heavy
Since her unconscious state

If I could, I'd stop right now
But who knows how safe it is here
And if I could even start again
I may fall asleep I fear

Soon my body will give up
But I'll make it as far as I can
And hopefully haven isn't too far
And I can put her in helping hands

Walking all day and night
It's hard not to think on past
And any thought I come up with
Has me struggling to hold sobs back

I've kept my ears open
Trying to focus on only sounds
But all I keep on hearing
Is my shoes crunch on foreign grounds

Bang. I hear it softly.
So far but still so near.
Bang. Another gunshot sounds
And I've collapsed in fear.

I close my eyes but another goes off
This time in a memory
And now I'm filled with rage
At how repulsive humans can be

My thoughts turn to my baby
Slipping off of my shoulder
I set her down and examine her
Bloodstained gown and skin colder

My worst nightmare but it can't be true
I listen in for her sweet breath
No. No No. No No. No No.
What's this silence? This isn't death.

This time I don't close my eyes
I see a sight that makes me sob
Memory of the last I saw my wife
And now my baby's with her mom.

Each one of us left covered in crimson
By a monster, a gunshot, a blow
Their death is the death of me.
This is as far as I can go.


May 2010
Inspired by Morris Gleitzman's novel "Once," a historical fiction about a boy in Poland
during the Holocaust.


Details | Quatrain | |

Les Paul Strings

There are so many sounds
That are enjoyed by so many
But the sounds i love most
Are by plectrum or penny


Lindsey Buckingham playing "Go Your Own Way"
Even Joe Perry makes "Walk This Way" say
Eric Clapton and his solo on "Cocaine"
Don Felder with "Hotel California" listening time and time again


Peter Green strumming "Man Of The World"
David Gilmour and Pink Floyd's "Time" the best i have ever heard
Jimi Hendrix with the amazing "Hey Joe"
Alex Lifeson axing "Working Man" in Toronto flow


Pete Townsend from the Who "Won't Get Fooled Again"
Neil Young and his anthem "Like A Hurricane"
George Harrison delights with "Here Comes The Sun"
Kerry Livgren from Kansas state "Carry on Wayward Son"


Tom Scholz of Boston with their "A Man I'll Never Be"
Jimmy Page from Led Zeppelin as their "Whole Lotta Love" riffs free
Neal Schon on a Journey "Who's Crying Now"
Nancy Wilson Seattle's Heart "Crazy On You" wows


The sounds you read above, are just my ones of many
Whether they are played by a plectrum, or played by a penny
I did mention above, that i loved Pink Floyd's "Time"
But second to it, is Slash's "Sweet Child of Mine"








Details | Quatrain | |

Twilight

The time of day to power a poet's fancy
Is that delay between the day and night
When rosy glows streak in the west horizon;
That lovely interlude we call twilight.

Somewhere between the daylight and the  darkness,
The remnants of the sun still hanging there, 
The twilight chases burdens of the daytime,
And gives us sweet respite from daily care

This mystic time the poets call the gloaming,
A  lingering salute to end of day,
Comes long enough to usher in the nighttime
And welcome in the moon and star display.

This half-light often brings quixotic dreaming,
Lulling noisy birds to join the quietude. 
A gift from God for those of lonely spirit,
Bestowed on them to bless their solitude.



Details | Quatrain | |

The Meaning Of Love

The Meaning of Love

Sitting on the water the moon dipping in his toes
Water rippling down, towards the sea it goes.
Making love under the moonlit sky so bright
As one together, on one never-to-be forgotten night.

Ripples of water matched by ripples of fear
Trembling together but not even near
Eons apart but matched in one thought
It cannot be stopped, it cannot be fought.

The moon need not be there, the river may dry up
The stars never seen, the wine they did not sup
Together they can be as one without even a touch
In thought and word only, the passion too much.

To fetch the passion to it’s desired end
Words of love and time one needs to spend
To come and reach the final conclusion
Together as one, it is no illusion.

Happiness can be reached though eons apart
Though time and circumstance tug at the heart
To never be alone in word thought or deed
Always to be there, when the other is in need.

© 22/12/2012 ~GG~


Details | Quatrain | |

A Letter to My Son

Your going has left a hole in my heart that time,
The Great Healer, cannot repair.
Your going has left a hole in my existence
That forever and beyond will not heal,
A hole ever expanding from its own nothingness,
A hole through which all the goodness,
All the kindness of you is slipping through.
You were my sounding board.
Trite ideas offered, came back
Enhanced, brilliant and sparkling.
Borrowing intelligence from you, I grew wiser.
Doors opened before me as I strove to be worthy
Of you, my beloved son.
I go on now as you would have me do,
Searching in Nature for the joy 
You found in its wonders.
Hearing bird songs with your ears,
Relating to others with your empathetic instincts.
Striving, ever striving to be the person
And mother that you believed me to be
And never letting your memory grow dim
For those you loved and for whom you sacrificed.

You came into this world with a wisdom
That did not come from me.
I thank God each day for His lending you to me
For the time that I had you near
And I cling to His promise
That I will see you again.

I could not tell from whence you came,
Born with a wisdom that did not come from me,
And I do not know where you have gone,
Part of myself, the better part--into Eternity.

Originally entered as verse

Rewritten:

A Letter to my Son

Your going has left a hole in my heart
That Time, that great healer cannot repair.
Your going  left  space in my existence
That forever and more will still be there.

Ever expanding from it nothingness
A hole from which your goodness has slipped through.
The kindnesses you wore as a halo
Have disappeared as well since I lost you.

I used you as a sounding boad to measure
The wisdom and the beauty of the world.
Your ideas were so clear and brilliant,
Through you my own best aptitudes unfurled.

I'm trying to live up to your standards.
I want to be more worthy of you, Son.
You told me once I was the perfect mother,
And with you life was such a lot of fun.

I thank God every day for loan of you.
The time we had was more than worth the pain.
And now I'm clinging tight to his promise
That some day I will see you once again. 

I do not know from whence you came,
Blessed with wisdom  that did not come from me.
Each day I pray I know where you have gone;
Taking my heart into Eternity.





Details | Quatrain | |

THE SEASONS OF MY LIFE

                                  THE SEASONS OF MY LIFE

In the Spring time I was blossoming,
The world was bright and new.
I learned to laugh annd cry and fight,
For what I knew was true.

That there`s a time to have your fun,
And there`s a time for work,
A time when we must learn to earn,
And value all life`s perks.

In Summer time I learned of life,
Of people and the world.
I learned that life`s a mixture,
Of experience, a whirl,

That sometimes life moves way too fast,
It should be sipped and savored,
Or else it plays out way too soon,
And loses all it`s flavor.

In Fall I learned acceptance,
That what must be will be.
It does no good to fuss and fret,
`Bout what was denied me;

For some it seems are richly blessed,
While others get the crumbs,
Who gets what is up to God,
From Whom all good things come.

Now Winter fast approaches,
And what`s important now,
Is what memories I`ll leave behind,
Who remembers me, --- and how.

                                                   Judy Ball


For At This Age Contest by Nette Onclaud


Details | Quatrain | |

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is a promise made that was never meant to be
Tomorrow is a dream come true that only we can see
Tomorrow is the time we plan to spread our wings and fly
If we don't take those first steps now, our dreams will pass us by.

Tomorrow is the day  when we start our lives anew
Tomorrow is the time when all the skies turn blue
Tomorrow is the reason that we hang onto our dreams
We need to start today to reach those goals it seems.

Tomorrow is a fleeting moment when our world comes all apart
Tomorrow is a passing glance as we give away our heart
Tomorrow is a triumph as we begin to touch the sky
If we keep waiting for tomorrow we should hang our heads and cry.

Tomorrow is the horizon as the sun sinks into the sea
Tomorrow is the time when all our people will be free
Tomorrow is the day when we come charging from the gate
But tomorrow never comes for those who only sit and wait.


Details | Quatrain | |

4 in less than forty

                           1 

Have to be somewhere in 40 mins
Enough time to write at least one
Fortunately I’m not using and pens
Else I would not be close to done

Of course you see the form I write
One familiar yet still complicated
It should be easy I write every night
Why my poems are often post dated

Halfway there only three minutes gone
Can I write eleven of these in my time
Maybe but could I post them all as well
Not sure, but I wouldn’t even bet a dime

The last I didn’t rhyme of first and third
I will admit I normally will rhyme abab
But in my amount of time that’s absurd
I am trying to finish quickly as you see

                             2

I already finished one how about another
The next line already in my head of course
Now you are probably saying o brother
This guy is a distinct body member of a horse

Really it’s just practice and having a bit of fun
I am definitely bored at this very early hour
I’m also texting a friend here and think of pun
I’d tell her what I think, but she might be sour

The last of course was purely a joke my friend
No evil thoughts currently in my head Miss PD
I at present, do not have that emotion to lend
Or maybe it was serious the last stanza hehehe

This is so much fun, a great way to pass time
You should try it, if you would possibly dare
I have said time a million times in my rhyme
Take time reading them, go ahead and stare