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Best Quatern Poems

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Details | Quatern Poem | |

Yesterday's Joys

Yesterday’s joys are more than a few.
In my mind they reside endlessly
like bright recollections rosy in hue
or the notes of a sweet melody.

Sorrow and pain won’t burden me, for
yesterday’s joys are more than a few.
Rich in blessings, I’ll never be poor.
Happy memories carry me through.

The “good old days” end; along comes the new,
and so much of it also is sweet!
Yesterday’s joys are more than a few.
With the new ones, my soul is replete!

Sweet recollections never will cease,
for no matter what strife may ensue,
I know in the end, I will find peace.
Yesterday’s joys are more than a few!

For the "Pick a Title" poetry contest of  Isaiah Zerbst

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Rain over Vietnam

There is the calm before the rain
It’s almost silent all around
The clouds expectant in the sky
Foreboding birds are homeward bound.

The soldiers stare at looming clouds
There is the calm before the rain
And yet there’s tension in the air
Will all this waiting be in vain?

They know the feeling well enough
The sun gets left out in the cold 
There is the calm before the rain
They have to be prepared and bold.

The sound of planes will soon be heard
Torrential bombs will fall again
But ‘til the heavens burst in floods
There is the calm before the rain. 

Inspired by the song “Have you ever seen the rain?”
Sung by Credence Clearwater Revival.
With underlying reference to the Vietnam War.
Contest: Screwed (Mar 2015)
Sponsor: Rob Carmack 
Placed: 7th

Rock N' Roll Contest sponsored by Kelly Deschler. NA

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Memories on Branches

Memories on branches live on and on - multiplying since the world’s first dawn. Fresh and beautiful in spring are we - buds that blossom on our family tree. We all need a place to build upon. Memories on branches will still live on even though - like summer birds - one day we may leave our nest and fly away. Busy we may be, but in the fall, we’ll look back and tenderly recall memories on branches have still lived on - bright like leaves that decorate our lawn. Winter’s snow covers us as we grow frail. Yet through our posterity, we know well what we’ve lived through never will be gone. Memories on branches live on and on.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Silver Strands

Her dark hair, laced with silver strands,
cascaded once with sable glint,
then lost (with drifting of the sands
of time) the chasteness of its tint.

It still grows long, but she has kept
her dark hair laced with silver strands
pulled back, attractively upswept,
at times enwrapped in stylish bands.

She misses days of few demands,
the ragtop down, her locks wind-tossed.
Her dark hair laced with silver strands
reminds her now of all she's lost. . .

She combs it out in dying light
of dusk and dreams a lover's hands
touch something soft as moon-streaked night,
her dark hair, laced with silver strands.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Nature Sounds

The wind against the trees make a rustling A sound unlike any other around The rubbing of the limbs craft a bustling It’s a subtle music which brings this sound Even the lake near land has a ripple The wind against the trees make a rustling And the grass nearby swishes and baffles And the wind seems to give a great panting The water has another sound, bubbling Sounds permeate all throughout this calm place The wind against the trees make a rustling Mountain sits mighty with sounds on its face Even the light seems to speak of high marks The scene enlightens higher than heartstrings Sound is the number one part that embarks The wind against the trees make a rustling…
Russell Sivey Contest: 'SOUNDS' Sponsor: FRANK H. 5/11/2013

Details | Quatern Poem | |

A Brittle Rose

I was wrong to think that roses would last forever You brought them to me that day so long ago My heart was captured by your boyish smile You were not yet a man and that I didn't know We made promises and our hearts were glad But you were gone when life began to show its face Now I'm left with only those dry and brittle roses And memories of that time that I can not erase

Details | Quatern Poem | |

As Swallows Call

The daffodils are dying now,
soft yellow silks wear hues of brown;
in weariness they rest their brow,
against the breeze, in jaded gown.

‘neath cotton clouds and powder blue
the daffodils are dying now;
as fleeting as the morning dew,
their beauty sways by shade of bough,

with trumpets dipped in muted vow
to yield their last remaining glow. 
The daffodils are dying now
as blossom reigns o’er winter snow.

And at the final curtain fall,
no encore, just a graceful bow,
as first arriving swallows call
“The daffodils are dying now”

Details | Quatern Poem | |

We are all strippers on a stage

We are all strippers on a stage
choreographed of broken dreams.
Our materialistic schemes
drown values in whiskey bottles.

We are all strippers on a stage
who put down our pillow case veils,
dawned a garter belt, sold our souls
for the price of our panty hose.

We are all strippers on a stage
who can not keep with this life style: 
with nights too long and days too short,
where a candle burns on both ends 

a center burns out; we sell out.
We are all strippers on a stage:
vibrate and shimmer for dollars,
feed this addictive scenery.

(modified quatern)

Details | Quatern Poem | |

"Black Bird" (spread your wing's)

Spread, your wings and soar on high, stretch forth beyond the particle's in
the sky. Rest on a large branch, look down at the creature's of blacks and
white's. Blackbird ain't its enough to make you cry. Crime soaring high, WHY-
why Blackbird why? No one knows, no-one dare steps forth his best. NOoooo
Black bird they're to busy pointing finger's, they rather listen to the voice of
the confused "stranger". A voice that tells them, take prayers away from school's,
take away their happiness, now the grave yards are full of young one's, some
in jail, to never see success. Soar on Blackbird, fly high and don't dare sit to long.
You see blackbird, the black's doesn't know the song and the whites want's to be
left along.
Spread your wings-my fowls of the air we all must share, as you fly blackbird, as
you are trying to accept the lost and the found, spread your wings Blackbird, we're
not all bad people's. Its just that we're too busy trying to tare each other down.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

God Is Faithful

Because He's our Savior and King Let's unite our voices in praise To world proclaim all His glory Today is time to praise the Lord. Seek His face and you'll find His grace Because He's our Savior and King He's my defender and refuge And want to serve Him forever. My heart sing for Him many songs My soul in Him always rejoices Because He's our Lord and King With Him I am never afraid. He's with me,when I feel lonely And just know that I'm not alone Jesus is near,not far away Because He's our Lord and King. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 Copyright@2010 (Psalms 100:1). "Shout for Joy to the Lord,all the earth." December,20,2010

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Heart To Heart

Silent, your heart is all I hear.
No, don't say you love me – I know;
something keeps you, year after year...
our hearts beating steady and slow. 

When voice stalls, the words won't come out.
Silent, your heart is all I hear,
speaks love's language, without a doubt,
from your heart center, soft and clear.

In my confusion, you're sincere;
your hand in mine, steadies my pulse.
Silent, your heart is all I hear...
protects me from the world's insults.

Spoken truth is shadows of light.
Without words, I know you are near.
Our love mingles – it feels so right.
Silent, your heart is all I hear.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

The Loss of Wisdom

They mourn wisdom not yet learned It flounces from their grasp, withers Away in the solar wind it burns Itself in the remnants of What once was a beautiful mind, They mourn wisdom not yet learned In this instanced reality Parallel our own treasured find Whisked away on the breeze it yearns Awhile for its past then thinks, as They mourn wisdom not yet learned These creatures of habit turn to Only what they knew, will never know The truth in starlight again nor the Real beauty of the sun's glow They mourn wisdom not yet learned
"Nolite umquam oblivisci" *Took 5th place in the February 2012 International Poetry Soup contest.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

A Bicycle in the Wind

On a bicycle, freedom's flight Pedaling 'cross the horizon Reflections of blue in my sight With dreams of lassoing the sun A girl's spinning wheels leave the ground On a bicycle, freedom's flight O'er the treetops without a sound Veils of darkness fall out of sight Wishing in the morning star's light Bright tomorrows, I wait to greet On a bicycle, freedom's flight My pink beauty with flowered seat Dark days return and tides do rise Still, memories soothe in the night Two wheels like wings of butterflies On a bicycle, freedom's flight

Details | Quatern Poem | |

The Soft Songs Sung By Bread

I liked the soft songs sung by Bread, a group whose lyrics filled my head, for each day from my radio I’d hear their music sweetly flow.
At night, relaxing on my bed, I liked the soft songs sung by Bread. I’d sing along while listening to songs like “If” and “Make It With You.” To “Baby I’m a Want You” I would think of one I loved and sigh. When by romance my heart was led, I liked the soft songs sung by Bread. Who wrote those lovely lyrics sung? I didn’t care, for I was young with many years before me spread. I liked the soft songs sung by Bread! Inspired by Michael J. Falotico's Contest: What Songwriter or writers Inspire you????
*David Gates is the songwriter and the originator of the group called Bread, most famous for its soft romantic songs of the early 70's. To know more about him, please click on "About Poem."

Details | Quatern Poem | |

A matter of Truth

In ponderings of wanderings Of contemplations incomplete In one’s life are found blunderings All human concepts have conceit Bound of the precept of the truth In ponderings of wanderings Serpent slithers, always aloof Nary a proof of his spawning Many lives he is squandering His power is in his disguise In ponderings of wanderings By pretentious love, his devise Lifting the voices of trumpet Of truth never the plundering The love of truth is triumphant In ponderings of wanderings ================= In honor of Dr Ram And contest

Details | Quatern Poem | |


When velvet robins dive below to herald new spring’s premier show, a chorus lilts along the quay inviting waters to sashay. How music tweets in deepened glow when velvet robins dive below; their wings flitting before my eyes as senses thrill in beamed surprise. And by the coast, the jasmines hop through fancy tunes of birds, non-stop when velvet robins dive below reflecting season’s brightest flow. Timbre of notes brush like wind-chimes along the trails of night sublime; I feel my heart aching to row when velvet robins dive below. Regina Riddle's Animal Contest

Details | Quatern Poem | |


Circles, circles always circles
time turning round and round
seasons come and seasons go
and the sky flows endlessly on.

From birth to death turning
circles, circles always circles
spiralling in blaze of colour
the pretty flowers live their cycle.

Relentless is mother nature
as all things she controls in
circles, circles always circles
just keep up with the flow.

A life starts while another ends
as the planets daily keep their cycle
and moon and sun bow to each other
circles, circles always circles.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Footsteps From Above

In this father’s mind, there is no other kind
Of noises that so resemble love
As the sounds that come from there, atop of the stairs
The patter of footsteps from above.

They’re scurrying about, the youngest one will shout
His sister just gave him a shove
Then she’ll plead her case, “Dad, he’s in my face”,
The patter of footsteps from above.

I know that one day, those noises will fade,
The patter of footsteps from above,
As the children grow old and their future is told,
And they vacate the nest like a dove.

But one day it’ll be back, from their own kids in fact,
The patter of footsteps from above,
When they come see granddad, and again I’ll be glad,
To hear those sounds I love coming from above.

Details | Quatern Poem | |


Just wishing on a shooting star Shimmery streak in the night sky Wistful eyes, clasped palms, mouth ajar Countless desires piling up high Mesmerized heart has stopped beating Just wishing on a shooting star Timeless moment, am savoring Fly me away to dreamland far Realms of real life drift afar Stack of suppressed dreams form towers Just wishing on a shooting star Let there be meteor showers! One silver strand for each sweet wish Sprinkling glitter from God's gold jar Soaking in the heavenly bliss Just wishing on a shooting star 10/8/2012

Details | Quatern Poem | |

The Allure of Your Lips

Luscious lips I languish for lured me with a lingering look. Sultry lips I long to kiss slightly part, exposing your smile. Magical moment, a tender touch, wanting more than I took, I quiver in the fading light; lurking lovers stay awhile. Do not leave me all alone captivated with your sweet kiss. Luscious lips I languish for lured me with a lingering look. Your lips entice me when you speak; each falling word brings me bliss, landing on defenseless heart; they flourish in our endless book. Our hearts are one as we kiss, nestled at our sinuous brook; I dream of languid days, laughing eyes, and secrets our lips share. Luscious lips I languish for lured me with a lingering look. 'Til dawn, I sleep in visions of clandestine candlelight flare. Waiting for the chance to quench my fervent desire once again, I call upon angels to whisper in your heart's ev'ry nook. Fascination from a singular kiss, the poem your touch penned. Luscious lips I languish for lured me with a lingering look.

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Harridan in a Housecoat

~Harridan in a Housecoat~ Four small children sent for care as their mother was taken so ill No father could they reach for them so they were sent off at someone’s will In the night taken from their beds, no word spoken, hearts full of dread Taken to a town far away and not knowing what lay ahead. A huge housecoat descended down like a crow devouring road kill At the side stood a henchman, pointed nose, dark hair, and vengeful Warning words left in theirs ears "be good or else there will be trouble" “No one wants you now you know, not your parents” she burst that bubble. The housecoat and the henchman dealt out their ghastly deeds To three of the children she vented her spleen, her willing helper dealt her needs The fourth child the baby, she showered with kisses and good food to eat She bought her clothes and dressed her well, and spoke to her words so sweet. The three all under the age of six did dread each and every night When scrubbed with scrubbing brushes, their skin looking red raw and tight. She had to get the scum off them because they were now in care It was obvious that no one loved them, that’s why they were there. Frightened and timid were the three, but the youngest was well looked after Jealousy did form in the minds of the three - it robbed them of their laughter The harridan in the housecoat with her willing henchman Thought up little tortures finding the Achilles’ heels in each child one by one. The housecoat and the henchman were in for big surprise When the father sent for the children, she couldn’t believe her eyes Bribery she tried on the siblings so the children would never tell But there is not one that would condemn her to her well preached hell. The housecoat and the henchman a mother and daughter no less A good churchgoing family with their holy pictures to bless Evil in their deeds of torture and of mental games The harridan in the housecoat and the daughter with no name.
© ~GG~ 6/08/2012

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Watching The Snow Fall

Watching the snow fall silently,
upon streets that clamor unrest,
my eyes behold how gallantly,
nature is at its very best.

I look about me everywhere,
watching the snow fall silently,
and marvel how nature so pure,
can steal my heart so reverently.

While traffic passes hurriedly,
and the shoppers in a frantic state,
watching the snow fall silently,
I sense the peace and slow my gait.

While others miss what I adore,
the joy, this gift, that comes for free.
Rushing by, they find no time for
watching the snow fall silently. 

Details | Quatern Poem | |

Angel Dust

God then sprinkles His Angel Dust On the precious bundle of joy, A mom's heart sinking, cry, he must His wails bring cheer, the first born boy! Innocence peppered with laughter God then sprinkles His Angel Dust That their smiles last "ever-after" Our twinkles know world's goodness just. Sunshine blossoms, love's silent trust Dreamy hues spin magic rainbow God then sprinkles His Angel Dust On tender sprouts, life's seeds we sow! A dangling soul in thread-bare skin Longing for release from Earth's crust Pardoning the anguished's each sin, God then sprinkles His Angel Dust. Yesha Shah for Gail's Angel Dust 16th Oct 2012

Details | Quatern Poem | |

The Chicken Instigator

All chickens here assembled, rise and fight.
It’s not enough the humans steal our eggs;
They cut our tender breasts, and that’s not right!
Stand tall upon your skinny chicken legs.

Stand tall and show them all you have some pluck
All chickens here assembled, rise and fight.
Tell all mankind that you don’t give a “cluck.”
Stop cowering like puppy dogs. Unite!

We’re raised unnaturally. Though plump and white,
We’re not all THAT; we’re caged and given grief!
All chickens here assembled, rise and fight.
We must convince mankind to turn to beef!

We’ve got to make them lustful for a steak;
to find the COW more healthful; see the light:
Say no to K. F. C or Shake ‘n Bake!
All chickens here assembled, rise and fight. 

For Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen's "Armano Aurocano Rock Star Contest" (the chicken contest)

Details | Quatern Poem | |

A form of beauty - Quatern

 I imagined her as a poem
 Perhaps as graceful as an elm
I'd love if she were a sonnet
All aglow in a pink bonnet

  Like a red rose upon the stem
 I imagined her as a poem
  Just swaying in the falling rain
with the rhythm of  a  dizain

Perhaps she was a villanelle
With the charm of a terzanelle
I imagined her as a poem
 She could be either one of them

Her words upon the page would chime
Flowing with beauty, like a rhyme
With  lustre of a precious gem....
I imagined her as a poem