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Best Quintain (English) Poems

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My Garden by duggan, peter
Imagination by Richards, Carrie
If the moth feared the flames by Sharma, Ajitha
2 Corinthians 5:17 - A New Creation by Merryman, Kim
confused by santiago, dulce
WOOL by Cwiak, Dan
Wool in Five by Poteet, Reason A.
POET'S DOZEN'T by Cwiak, Dan
POET'S DOZEN ON SOUL MATES by onclaud, nette
BUNDLE OF JOY by MWANGI, MARION

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The Best Quintain (English) Poems

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Dear Quintain

Dear Quintain, how beautiful you are, allowing us to paint the spacious sea or sky, landscapes, or nights’ celestial bodies beckoning from afar. Even when my quill is running dry, with you along, my thoughts are sure to fly! For all I need to do is let you slip inside, then nestle in my brain. The pattern of rhyme required by you is not too difficult; here I will remain content to write with you, dear Quintain. Your English form, so lovely, does not ask that we adhere to meter even though I want to dance your lines as I bask in your sweet simple charms, and lo! My quill has filled; my lines now start to flow! I’ll keep on going for two stanzas more because I wish to sing your praises! My mind is like a shore upon which you are tumbling, glistening! A sea of inspiration you bring. Continue on - through poets - bringing words that paint our world, entreating all to see God’s gifts or to enjoy the singing birds, taste clear mountain springs, and smell the salty sea. Continue, dear Quintain, enrapturing me. Written 8/17/2015 for the Quintain Poetry Contest of Francine Roberts

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

More great poems below...


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

In the Sun's Last Glow

On her terrace where she once had viewed a crimson field, she stands recalling heroes who were battling their foe. She still can feel the terror! How her poor heart reeled thinking of her lover fighting on the field below, with others on that plain bathed red as the sun dipped low. The brave men lie in caskets which now are concealed beneath a plain that ran with blood, where bright irises now grow. She thinks of her own strong brave man, draped in white and sealed forever in a casket too. He was her Romeo. The sorrow flooding her she had never thought to know. She looks down from her terrace with a heart that won’t be healed. The mighty dead now lie in grassy fields. . . and lo! Around the graves are swords, which are green blades revealed with *purple flags that softly wave as a May wind starts to blow and she is bathed in red again, there in the sun’s last glow. * Purple flags refer to the name of the purple iris that resembles a flag

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Wonders of Winter

Look up!  Snowflakes appear in streetlights
   Hear children cheer as snow days are announced
Watch the powder fly during snowball fights
   Listen as faith through joyful hymns is pronounced
   Join snow angel brigades while on wintery landscapes we pounce

Walk briskly with me through the winter woods
   Where boughs of evergreens droop with white frost
Don your boots and pull up your jacket hood
   Let’s slide on the lake until our energies exhaust
   Then trudge back home as snow drifts are crossed

Place damp clothes on a chair by the fireside
   Pour a glass of wine and snuggle with me
Whispers of passion, ‘neath a blanket confide
   Lights from the fir tree fill our hearts with glee
   As you offer me your ring on bended knee

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

December Magic

Frost crisped, the lawn remained
beneath the frozen dew.
Water dripped to ice as gutters drained.
The cardinal bids the day adieu;
the winter storm has left a gelid view.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

December Magic

 She   arrives with a mystic charm
 Gliding in on silver moon
 With a peaceful vibe that oft disarms
 As words of praise in yuletide tunes
 Echo  where the stars are strewn

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2014


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

The Curious Moon

A young man leads his girlfriend to a tree
one sultry summer eve as night is looming.
the branches of the old oak form a canopy
under which he leans in for a kiss, assuming
his new love also feels their romance blooming.

The pretty girl is innocent and shy,
but from the boy’s sweet kiss she feels that he
might be her one true love; more kisses make a sigh
escape her lips. Her inhibitions flee,
and touching him arouses her curiosity.

Aglow, they feel a passion all-consuming,
undressing one another as fingers fly.
The curious moon, with incandescence blooming,
peeks down from a star-bedazzled sky.
Young love with moon above shall never die.


Written 10/17/12 for Francine Robert's
Romance me with English Quintains Poetry Contest
and now for A true love -poem #2 - Poetry Contest of poet destroyer A

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

The Sweetest Starlight

The Sweetest Starlight
 
You are the sweetest starlight shining across the ocean so pure
Moonlighting and enchanting my dreams with warmth aglow,
Touching gently my heart and soul with your beauty and wonder;
If we were together—I would hold you so gently in my arms and I
Would forever kiss your adoring lips with a passionate goodnight.

Love is a faraway queen rising in the morning sunshine’s warm rays, 
And your light glows brilliantly as the dewdrops glisten on my dreams 
Of pure sweet surrender and kiss the very depth of my immortal soul;
You are the light of Heaven's dream of a rainbow's flight of angels
Arriving at Heaven’s gate and coming to me on a beam of silver light.

Mesmerized I am as I embrace you as the heart, soul, passion and
Desire of my life—I see you as my true dream and my heart’s delight;
Feeling palpably your wonderful caress as you ask me to kiss you,
And to place your ethereal lips upon my very own knowing that
My heart and soul are open now to your loving heavenly embrace.

Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 2, 2015 (Unrhymed Quintain)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Undaunted

"Anyone there?" says Magenta Madness
A tremulous knock and wicked pink grin
Insidious.....with sly silver badness
Lethal leather and his ebony sin

        Dark expectations of a soul stealing win

Uninvited, his stark entrance grand
Painted pretty, his lavender Lies...
Slides her thoughts with a daring hand
Muffles her lips and mutes all her cries

        He giggles, thinking her sanity dies...

"Victory!" He shouts, as white lilies fall
Precious petals careen to glass floor
He drapes his win in a purple shawl
Turning his back, not accounting for

       Her dash to sane, through a splintered door

Copyright © Christie Moses | Year Posted 2009


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Spring Sleep

Sighing softly, a gentle breeze, dances amid my clothes line. Sweet the scent, refreshing tease, as sheets, its hug entwines. This night, on Spring, I shall recline.
2/8/12 For the contest: English Quintain, A Spring Day Sponsored by Francine Roberts

Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2012


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Unzipped Lips

As I was busy “being” just who I am, I didn’t care what others were seeing. To be as they wish, would be a sham and I will not be part of a scam. People are really the sum of everything that has touched their lives. When others take issue with what you’ve become, don’t expect to receive high fives. If you stay true, your uniqueness survives. No one can tell you what to feel, when to laugh or how to pray. The very act of being real will find you rising above the fray, dispelling regrets each day. For if you submit to playing a role that doesn’t fit your personality, you’ll dig yourself deep into a hole. Don’t succumb to others’ mentality; maintain your individuality.
*English Quintain by Carolyn Devonshire for Nancy's "Unzipped Lips" contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Skin

The whisper of your skin dissolving into mine - the weight of it is kin to that of wings of butterflies - divine deliciousness I can’t define! My precious love - We meld into a sky of night that’s never been so breathlessly partaken of nor ever will again. Exquisitely you paint my sweetest sin. For PD's Any Poem # 28 Free Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

If This is My Last Poem

If this is my last poem, a masterpiece it will not be, nor a poem of sorrow written deep into the night. No self-recriminations or guilt. That is not me. By nature I’m a sonneteer. My poetry is light. A song of happiness and gratitude I’ll write. As imperfect as I always was and still am to this day, I have a gentle spirit and am kind like many others close to me, who I am glad to say I did not have to look too hard to find - good friends who understand my heart and mind. Yes, good friends I’ve always had; they are my prize for my simply being on this earth, for little do I do to merit their affection. In my eyes, they are roses; from random seeds they grew! Some flourish yet today in my garden of friendship sweet and true. Then there are my sisters, who from my mother’s womb came to share a strange and wondrous childhood with me. I’m lucky, for this fate did not spell doom. Though woes would soon ensue from a blended family, we found great pleasure in a lifestyle of simplicity. Older now, with children, my sisters and I thrive. The memories we made together, like a song, linger, and I’m happy to be alive, knowing that my children too belong with me in spirit, for our bonds are strong. Yes, friends and family, and so much more: a husband who works hard and has been true, the children of my children and the pets that I adore! There are students who have touched my life; they’ve come and gone, but how I hope that in their hearts a piece of me lives on. If this is my last poem, I must conclude with things I got to do! I got to play, see movies, write my poems, eat good food, and read of places that I got to visit far away! Thank you, God, for everything, is all that's left to say. Written Aug. 28, 2015

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Spring Lasses

March is the first to arrive on the scene. She sees Winter leaving and blows him a kiss, And then she starts in to paint the world green. Even though March has brought us such bliss, Spring will get even better than this! April comes next, summoning showers. That rain falls refreshingly from skies above. Soon we hear birds and smell fragrant flowers. Nature's rebirth we are witnesses of When April surrounds us with signs of God’s love. Butterflies flutter and baby chicks hatch. Sun gives more strength day by day. Our next lovely lass has nary a match, For she is the merriest, with the name May. Be happy when she’s on her way! June is the fourth and the last girl of spring, Distinctive because she’s the one To finish the season that makes our hearts sing. Even then, her work in not done. She ushers in Summer and welcomes new fun! *Written 4/11/14 For the Contest of Francine Roberts. I remembered this as a spring contest and forgot it was Spring DAY. I worked so hard on it, I just can't start again, so I hope you forgive it being about all of the spring days. In any event, thanks for the inspiration.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Unnoticed

The world wants a torch
but I only wished to be a candlelight.
It gives dim light but will never scorch
Though it will never be a highlight
but it can be your hope tonight.

The world think highly of leader
but my eyes admire those who serve
Leaders may seems stronger
It is all because those who are willing to serve
Even if it will lead them to their grave


The world wants a raging water
But I only want to be in still
Does it even matter?
There is nothing more for me to fulfill
To become greater is what the world wants to instill.



By: Doris Jamoner - 01/28/2015

Copyright © Doris Jamoner | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Infamous Icon

Should I enhance my recognition
by defiantly treading on an innocent heart?
Or perhaps mine is a sin of omission,
fleeing with fame a la carte,
while thoughtlessly tearing another soul apart.

What reward can be found
as I stomp on another’s dreams,
leaving them quaking on the ground
where incivility screams
and not one ray of light beams?

Perhaps there is more joy in obscurity
than in fame that grows from ill roots.
Before me is an angel basking in purity
besieged by destructive brutes –
wolves dressed in lambs’ suits.

My soul will not let me go there –
to that place where evils dwell.
Entrust my fate to a prayer
that self-promoting acts cannot dispel
the eternal fires of an infamous hell.



*Written April 12, 2015, for Sheri’s “I, Icon” challenge

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Springtime with Gramps

The death of winter carries varied sights.
In April, when dandelions roar, “It’s Spring!”
green yards transform by magic overnight.
Gramps had sprayed his lawn, but in ours weeds bring
an old game for kids as they dance and swing.

Small windmills in disguise, children spread seeds
giving Grandpa a cause for some dismay.
He is no grouch,  fence conversation leads
to friendly talk of butterflies at play -
riddles about what nature does in May.

The kids amazed, watch squirrels building nests,
questions evolve about the birds and bees.
Gramps calls them varmints - Mother's Nature’s pests.
“Ask your folks”, he replies with cough and wheeze.
In naptime dreams, he aims a gun at trees.

Gramps takes a walk, golf umbrella hovers
for spring rains do not announce their coming.
A neighbor lady hobbles to cover.
Listen, his cane on her sidewalk - drumming,
sweet songs of spring love, two voices humming.


written May 7, 2014, edited on May 25, 2014

Copyright © Reason A. Poteet | Year Posted 2014


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

The Army Beret

The Army Beret

My favourite hat is an army beret
That still holds the shape of his head
Woven with wool that has seen better days
Rim hanging from tattered threads
Stained with the tears I have shed.


~~~~

Author: Elaine Cecelia George, of Canada
For: Carol‘s contest:  My favorite hat
Awarded:  First Place


Author's note: 

This poem is about my Father's Army baret.
 (A Beret is  a french name for a round flat hat with a tight rim and is  pronounced 
beray)

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2011


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

A Hug for the Bug

Many insects creep upon this earth, and hardly anyone refers to them as “nice” or writes a poem reflecting on their worth! Spiders sometimes make me jump as if they were small mice, and how repulsed I feel to see cockroaches or lice! How many cute soft cuddly insects can we find? Worms are soft, but cuddly? I don’t think so! Which bug both cute and sweet comes to your mind? Well, Butterflies are lovely; fireflies have a nice soft glow. But the one that comes to MY mind I bet you know! She is a lady beetle, and when she lands on me, I do not flinch or swat at her or gasp out “Ugh!” People like to count her spots. A lucky one is she. Protecting crops, she is well liked by farmers. What a bug! If she were but my size, I’d give her a big hug. Written 4/16/13 for Francine Roberts' Whimsy in English Quintain Free Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

This Year In English Quintain

Someone is knocking at my door The night’s cold, my world’s dying and drear It’s Good Joy. Cheers! No more, no more Oh dear, I cannot open the door for her Sorry Joy, glide by, I’m sick and not in my gear. Someone is knocking at my door The night’s cold, my world’s dying and drear It’s Good Hope but I can’t be lured. In dark shadows I grope, what makes you come here? I know you mock the life, glide by, I desire. Someone is knocking at my door The night’s cold, my world’s dying and drear Oh, It’s Good Health. This year you won’t be ignored Welcome, I dart my doors open for you, dear. I do need nothing but your blessings this year.
+++ January 15, 2015 Form: Quintain (English-ABABB)

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

River Song

On the bank of the river, I watch the brown leaves drifting,
and let the current lift me, to where the sun resides
Rock rimmed, and cold,  the waters ever shifting,
without a hesitation, with no reason to abide
I watch the brown leaves drifting, to where the sun resides

Somewhere down the river,  the thrushes and the swallows,
fly high above the rushes, with bright, satin wings 
Reeds grow in shadowed shallows, there are ducks in all the hollows
Moss is green, and willows lean, and the haloed twilight clings
There are ducks in all the hollows, with bright, satin wings

As I watch the streams meander, I can hear the seasons call
Water soothes the jagged stones, and shadowed day is done
The moon arrives, and sun declines, as if from earth, it falls
Does it melt into the river's flow, as the seams blend into one?
I can hear the seasons call, as the seams blend into one

_____________________________________________________
1/15/15  For the Contest: Manassian Quintain
Sponsored By Craig Cornish

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Passionate Storm

The rain cascaded, those tiny tear drops.
Leaving a small path, on her smooth plump lips.
It was like nature pulled out all the stops.
I drank from her bounty, with thirsty sips.
Those tiny teardrops, on her smooth plump lips!

Drifting on passion, rising with the swell.
Paradise fullfilled, love's secret revealed.
As a gentleman, I can never tell.
So those details, in my heart have been sealed.
I can never tell, love's secret revealed.

We parted ways, after the morning storm.
Our tsunami, was a wonderful kind
She walked away, I admired her form.
I'll remember her, she'll stay on my mind.
After the morning storm, she'll stay on my mind!


Second attempt for Craig Cornish's contest.

Form: Manassian Quintain

I hope I got it right this time Craig and Eileen!

My first attempt was "Crashing on The Shore", thanks
Seren for letting me know I messed up the form.;0)

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Destined to Love

"Destined to Love" twilight Moon cascades, haunting tapestry as hearts incline to secrets of mellow night clandestine caresses embrace 'neath canopy lovers silhouette engage in sweet romantic flight ascending to voluminous height. in ebony atmosphere, flirtatious fondling ignites fire as breathless succulence invades flesh and bone with adventurous satisfaction, love pursues deepest desire while sequined stars illuminate soft tone captivating aura of mysterious moan. forbidden fruit lies tenderly amidst dew-kissed heather hypnotic force of true love refused to be denied petite vision in chantilly lace and supple leather emotions escalate vast inner feelings to subside love conquers life, happiness cried. a lovers touch creates palatial garden of delight a beautiful expression accentuating rare romance inhaling fragile fragrance although their precious plight encircles pair in eternal dance succumbing to the power of temptation's trance. twilight Moon cascades, haunting tapestry gently, pure white wings of turtledove whispers an evening song 'neath lovely canopy while heavenly stardust shimmers from above smiling upon lovers destined to love. *For old romantic poems Contest..

Copyright © Linda-Marie SweetHeart | Year Posted 2012


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Temper Tantrum

During the night the heavy storm came.
Lashing rain and winds that were wild.
By morning, gone, and now weather tame.
The skies, bright and clear, wind now mild.
Nature's temper tantrum, like that of a child.

Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

This Year

There is no way that anyone can know how each new year will be: how our jobs or our relationships might go. What great new things might we live to see? Might we have to endure some tragedy? I can only hope the good will far outweigh the bad and that our every tear might be cried for joy instead of something sad. May peace abide with those whom we hold dear as all of us press onward through this year! For the "This Year in English Quintain" - Poetry Contest of Francine Roberts

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


Details | Quintain (English) Poem | |

Spring's Rebirth

As winter's icy talons release their grip,
Leaving behind a landscape barren brown,
Spring waltzes in and proceeds to strip,
Winter of her tattered, lifeless gown,
Replacing it with green and floral crown.

Golden sunlight thaws the frigid earth,
Flora of a thousand kind burst into bloom.
Nature comes alive in glorious rebirth,
Extinguishing winter's boorish gloom,
And infusing the air with sweet perfume.

Butterflies take flight from their cocoons,
Spreading wings of red, blue and gold.
Warbling birds let loose a merry tune,
While building nests, their eggs to hold.
How marvelous to watch new life unfold!

What joy it is to be alive,
To feel spring's sunshine on your face,
To live, to love, to dream, to thrive,
As spring assumes her proper place,
Wrapping us in her warm embrace.

4/14/14
For Francine Roberts
Spring English Quintain contest.

Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2014