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Best Terzanelle Poems

Below are the all-time best Terzanelle poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Terzanelle poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

September

"September, beautiful month of my birth, is nigh, but I cannot feel glad." September, drifting in with glow of moon, you stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and she grieves. In guise of fire, the Fall comes all too soon. Your breath grows cool. You’ll blow and loosen leaves. The hills and woodlands will reflect new hues. You stifle Summer’s ardor. . . and she grieves. In Autumn’s chill, the colors are a ruse. For as you pass, the trees are set ablaze. The hills and woodlands then reflect new hues. Though warmth may linger through your final days, old Sun is waning, yet he still seems strong! For as you pass, the trees are set ablaze. September, you’re a melancholy song. Though time be short, you paint a brilliant dusk! Old sun is waning, yet he still seems strong. October looms. . . Your ending will be brusque. September, drifting in with glow of moon, though time be short, you paint a brilliant dusk. In guise of fire, the Fall comes all too soon.
by Andrea Dietrich For the contest of Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~ "A Poem, Please"

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

Without Hope's Gleam

The flower that is given little light tastes not enough of joy and cannot thrive - then fades away like dusk into the night. The soul who struggles just to stay alive - much like the flower wilting in the dark - tastes not enough of joy and cannot thrive. How can a fire be lit if there’s no spark? Without hope’s gleam, the soul will waste away - much like the flower wilting in the dark. This is the plight of one whose world is grey: Though others say a paradise exists - without hopes gleam, the soul will waste away. A man upon this earth who tastes no bliss is like a soul brought low who droops his head though others say a paradise exists. How sad that someone rather would be dead! The flower that is given little light is like a soul brought low who droops his head, then fades away . . . like dusk into the night. Written 11/15/12 For the "Hope" Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish and now for the contest of Nathan A

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Rising Within Your Pages

I take for granted all that I can do
Thinking that what I have has all been earned
Instead I should be so thankful to You

A spirit of pride is one that is learned
I start to believe the things that are said
Thinking that what I have has all been earned

Within my heart I begin to be led
Rising within the pages of Your Word
I start to believe the things that are said

I learn to fly on the wings of a bird
Here is where I learn the ways of Freedom
Rising within the pages of Your Word

I no longer doubt your Kingdom will come
Without your Love I will never know Peace
Here is where I learn the ways of Freedom

Within the Heavens praises never cease
Without Your Love I will never know Peace
I take for granted all that I can do
Instead I should be so thankful to you


Any poem #4 Contest.

Sponsored by Nathan A.

Written March 7th 2014

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

True Hearts Beating

Where will I be twenty years from today?
The World is moving at such a fast pace.
Will I still look at love the same way?

Will I be able to look at your face?
That is my heart's greatest desire.
The World is moving at such a fast pace.

Now when I'm with you my heart is on fire.
I wish for my soul to still burn for you.
That is my heart's greatest desire.

My eyes may grow dimmer I know that's true.
A love so beautiful will never fade.
I wish for my soul to still burn for you.

Even if my body to death is laid.
That will never stop my true heart's beating
A love so beautiful will never fade.

The world may be fast sometimes defeating.
That will never stop my true hearts beating.
Where will I be twenty years from today?
I'll still be looking at love the same way!

Valentines Contest

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

Locked in a Jar

Does the one who loves you know who you are?
She needs a real man not just a facade.
Don't keep your heart locked away in a jar.

Not being open she'll think you're a fraud.
She longs to share every part of herself.
She needs a real man not just a facade.

Your heart is out of reach on that old shelf.
Where she can see it but it's out of reach.
She longs to share every part of herself.

But you hold onto her just like a leach.
In the glass jar it looks so very clear.
Where she can see it but it's out of reach.

If you open it what is there to fear?
Are there dark spots you don't want her to see?
In the glass jar it looks so very clear.

Is it that you're afraid that she will flee?
Why won't you reveal every part of you?
Are there dark spots you don't want her to see?

There are some good men, be one of the few.
It's time to reveal every part of you.
Help the one who loves you, know who you are.
Don't keep your heart locked away in a jar.

Modified Terzanelle

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

A Box of Truth

I bought a box of truth from a peddler down the street,
even though he told me its veracity might sting.
I handed him a stack of bills and asked for a receipt.
 
The box was wrapped in violet silk and tied with silver string.
I gripped the lid with shaking hands and paused with bated breath,    
even though he told me its veracity might sting.
 
The truth inside the box was even uglier than death.
It slapped me with repugnance and assaulted with its stench. 
I gripped the lid with shaking hands and paused with bated breath. 
 
I closed the box in panicked shock and struggled not to blench.
Receipt in hand, I hurried to return the wretched truth.
It slapped me with repugnance and assaulted with its stench.
 
I found that lousy peddler selling boxes from his booth.
He studied me with sympathy and eyed my violet crate.
Receipt in hand, I hurried to return the wretched truth.
 
With fingers clenched in fury and a heart awash with hate,
I bought a box of lies from that peddler down the street.
He studied me with sympathy and eyed my yellow crate.
I handed him a stack of bills and asked for no receipt.

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

In Moon's Glow

I’m sailing on a blue sea in moon’s glow. Beyond the horizon my days are kissed with magic; far into the past I go. Walks along a cherry lane! An autumn mist! Reality or just a fantasy? Beyond the horizon my days are kissed. I think I can recall a Hanah Lee. . . on wisps of memory to which I cling. Reality or just a fantasy? What birds of splendor did I once hear sing? I yearn to know again; I slowly drift on wisps of memory to which I cling. Upon a dragon’s tail I wish to lift! Dreams ripple on the waves, and to a land I yearn to know again I slowly drift. To run again with bare feet in white sand! I’m sailing on a blue sea in moon’s glow. Dreams ripple on the waves, and to a land with magic - far into the past I go! the magic moon . . . in moonlight’s absence could fantasy survive? Inspired by the Peter, Paul and Mary song "Puff the Magic Dragon" and the "Terzanelle Fantasy with a Questionku Chaser Poetry Contest" for Skat's Fantasy Poetry Contest

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

Cassiopeia

She hangs upside down in her night sky chair,
Chained to the heavens by ropes of bright stars
With rubescent cheeks and moonlight-soaked hair.
 
Wrists raw with redness of eternal scars,
Her silver tears drop like gems to the sea,
Chained to the heavens by ropes of bright stars.
 
Cursed by Poseidon, she'll never be free.
Punished for claiming the beauty of gods,  
Her silver tears drop like gems to the sea.

She wallows in shame, so lovely and flawed.
Regrets bloom like roses with crimson thorns,
Punished for claiming the beauty of gods.

Jailed by nighttime, her weary soul mourns,
Weeping for freedom that will never be. 
Regrets bloom like roses with crimson thorns.

Pinned there forever, unable to flee,
She hangs upside down in her night sky chair,
Weeping for freedom that will never be, 
With rubescent cheeks and moonlight-soaked hair.

Five little stars
Represent her fate
Can she see us staring?

*Based on the mythological story of Queen Cassiopeia and her constellation


Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

She Dreams of Him

Your mind has designed the perfect lover
That sensitive man of your special dreams
You wait for him to rip off the covers

Late night dinning with kisses and moon beams
You are awake and still dreaming of him
That sensitive man of your special dreams

Alone in the night the lights grow dim
Thinking about love and what it all means
You are awake and still dreaming of him

Real life may not always be filled with steam
You try to be thankful but it seems hard
Thinking about love and what it all means

With imagination you play the card
Even though you're aware it isn't real
You try to be thankful but it seems hard

In the end you can't help how you feel
Even though you're aware it isn't real
Your mind has designed the perfect lover
You wait for him to rip off the covers

Details | Terzanelle Poem | |

Copper Trees

Enhanced by peaceful solitude, in twilight, crimson crowned
There, in tensile grace she stood, enchantment in disguise
Lightly splashed in backlight, where the tender grass had grown

A monumental moment, as she stood before my eyes
First stabbed by startled fear, new trust came pouring down
There, in tensile grace she stood, enchantment in disguise 

Caressed in beauty, and sun embraced, revealed for me alone
Dare I break the silent calm, with breath or just a sigh?
First stabbed by startled fear, new trust came pouring down

A white tailed doe, was grazing there, aware and keen of eye
She perked up ears, alert for sound, yet, still she had not flown
Dare I break the silent calm, with breath or just a sigh?

Or take a step, in chance my foot could rustle twig or loam?
This stance of wills...intense and poised, a fleeting chance to flee
She perked up ears, alert for sound, yet still she had not flown

Eyes made of glass, as windows are, in which the iris tongue
We made no move...each one transfixed, no air in lungs to breathe
So inter-laced, with life force crossed, in universal one
Our spirits twined against the sky, beneath the copper trees


                     
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