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Best Triolet Poems

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

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New Triolet Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Triolet poems are below this new poems list.

Getting There by Thoughtssite, Jotting
Pandora by Guenther , DebbySue
A Father Is by Dietrich, Andrea
SPRING AT LAST by Ball, Judy
GOLDEN SUMMER by Rodrigues, Kim
Summer Fire by Massey, A. Mark
Crest of Melodious Words by Flower, Moon
Sweet Summer Triolet by Dietrich, Andrea
Preterition by Dietrich, Andrea
AGNES by Ward, Julia

View all new Triolet Poems

The Best Triolet Poems

Details | Triolet Poem | |

A Triolet for Linda

To those you care for, always you impart deep love; how beautiful and sweet you are! I pray you find a way to mend your heart. To those you care for, always you impart poetic gems! Return to this, your art. Grab hold of words and shine again, a star. To those you care for, always you impart deep love; how beautiful and sweet you are! Written 12/6/14 for the Fighting Depression(poems for PD) contest of shadow Hamilton

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Star Sugar

Oh, scattered flecks that sparkle light like crystals emptied from a bowl to dust the skies from some great height! Oh, scattered flecks that sparkle light, you sweeten up my somber night. Delight the lone and searching soul, oh, scattered flecks that sparkle light like crystals emptied from a bowl.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011


Details | Triolet Poem | |

When Heaven and Earth Wept

In camps, they’d slaved and starved; cold nights, they’d slept - Each woman, man, and little girl and boy. Relentless horror had around them crept. In camps, they’d slaved and starved; cold nights, they’d slept Until one day, even the angels wept! For freedom’s win, the world cried tears of joy. In camps, they’d slaved and starved; cold nights, they’d slept - Each woman, man, and little girl and boy. Written 1/3/16 For John Lawless' "Even the Angels Wept" Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Dandelion Dream

-Dandelion Dream-

I stand close with a fistful of flowers
My tiny bouquet made of dandelion dreams 
They fade with one gush from the wind
I stand close with a fistful of flowers
Holding on tight to jagged leaves 
Sprinkles of sand fall over my needs
I stand close with a fistful of flowers
My tiny bouquet made of dandelion dreams 

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Tell Me- Me Dire

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What the Quack!
I dont want my poems in Poem Zoo!
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Copyright © Usual Suspect | Year Posted 2012


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Mortality's Own Friend

(Inspired by Abe Lincoln’s “Memory”) Mortality's Own Friend So sadly here, among the dead, I live - mortality's own friend. Recalling all that's lost, I tread so sadly here, among the dead. Sweet memories are as a thread which link the living to their end. So sadly here, among the dead, I live - mortality's own friend. For the "Prose vs Poetry and the Classics" Poetry Contest of Jerry T. Curtis Here is Abraham Lincoln's "Memory," which really speaks to me: Memory by Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) My childhood’s home I see again, And sadden with the view; And still, as memory crowds my brain, There’s pleasure in it, too. O memory! thou midway world ’Twixt earth and paradise, Where things decayed and loved ones lost In dreamy shadows rise, And, freed from all that’s earthly, vile, Seem hallowed, pure and bright, Like scenes in some enchanted isle All bathed in liquid light. As dusky mountains please the eye When twilight chases day; As bugle notes that, passing by, In distance die away; As leaving some grand waterfall, We, lingering, list its roar -- So memory will hallow all We’ve known but know no more. Near twenty years have passed away Since here I bid farewell To woods and fields, and scenes of play, And playmates loved so well. The friends I left that parting day How changed, as time has sped! Young childhood grown, strong manhood gray; And half of all are dead. I hear the loved survivors tell How nought from death could save, Till every sound appears a knell And every spot a grave. I range the fields with pensive tread, And pace the hollow rooms, And feel (companion of the dead) I’m living in the tombs.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Summer Sunrise

She looks at me with blushing face
At break of day she shyly peeps.
I watch her move with utmost grace
She looks at me with blushing face.
Her lovely smile a warm embrace,
My heart runs fast; it beats and leaps
She looks at me with blushing face
At break of day she shyly peeps.

--------------------------------------------
For Andrea's contest: "Short Form Pt 3"

* In several countries and in Teutonic 
languages the sun is considered female.

Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

A Christmas Snow

I wish to see the beauty of a Christmas snow and hear the songs about a holy birth. Along the streets where lights are strung aglow, I wish to see the beauty of the Christmas snow. But most of all, I wish for love to grow in every heart till there is peace on earth. I wish to see the beauty of a Christmas snow and hear the songs about a holy birth.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

At Winter's End

At winter’s end, sweet hope begins to swell until it fills the earth. Forlornness fades; renewal wins at winter’s end! Sweet hope begins to scatter seeds that blossom mirth as sun looks down at us and grins! At winter’s end, sweet hope begins to swell until it fills the earth.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

When All That's Left Is To Love

.

You are the temple, I worship within,
living prayers of merging love and lust,
breath writes holy scriptures upon our skin.
You are the temple, I worship within,
a sacred place for me to enter in,
my priesthood's vows renewed by ev'ry thrust.
You are the temple, I worship within,
living prayers of merging love and lust. 














*This is an adaptation of French Triolet, a form which is officially written
in lines of 8 syllables, incorporating Iambic Tetrameter. Instead of French Iambic T, 
I am in the mood for a more rambling Colonial English flavour :P



.

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013


Details | Triolet Poem | |

The Evening's Come

The evening’s come. Now close your eyes, And gently drift into the night. Release your soul from earthly ties; The evening’s come. Now close your eyes. Move on beyond the star-laced skies Until you find the Greater Light. The evening’s come. Now close your eyes, And gently drift into the night.
*See "About Poem" (Inspired by the movie, "Evening") For Brian Strand's Contest: SIX TO SIXTEEN any form ,any theme ,max of 16 lines Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Moon

               
Low hanging moon with softened gleam; As stars peek down, I take my rest. I lie beneath a sheen of cream. Low hanging moon with softened gleam, Your essence wraps around my dream, Then flees beyond your sleepy crest. Low hanging moon with softened gleam; As stars peek down, I take my rest.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013


Details | Triolet Poem | |

A Gentle Breeze

It begins with a gentle breeze,
that rustles leaves with its touch.
Scurrying through the tops of trees,
it begins with a gentle breeze.
Not enough to discourage bees,
it’s only brisk, it isn't much.
It begins with a gentle breeze,
that rustles leaves with its touch.

It’s only brisk, it isn't much,
until that breeze begins to gust.
Yet, you can still escape its clutch,
it’s only brisk, it isn't much.
It topples garbage cans and such,
gathering up a cloud of dust.
It’s only brisk, it isn't much,
until that breeze begins to gust.

Gathering up a cloud of dust,
it dims the sun's diminished light.
And attacks with increasing thrust,
gathering up a cloud of dust.
As shutters squeak and hinges bust,
a furious gale gives them flight.
Gathering up a cloud of dust,
it dims the sun's diminished light.

A furious gale gives them flight,
as loose shingles fly through the air.
Morphing into objects of might,
a furious gale gives them flight.
People join hands and hang on tight,
for flying debris packs a scare.
A furious gale gives them flight,
as loose shingles fly through the air.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Watching the Shadows Grow

Dawn peeks over the hill and I.
The lemon lights stretch the shadows.
The beasts and wee birds grumble and fly,
each seeking food, and so do I.
My stomach growls at cocks reply
the cows in the pasture all low.
We sit with tea just he and  I
watching the sun grow the shadow.


*Zeugma line 1 Dawn peeks over the HILL.
                     Dawn peeks over the I.

9/2/14

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Life Is Like A Maypole

Spring bows to thrill of cayenne summer,    
dreams spiced in youthful glow come May.
Bright ribbons wake my bare feet’s slumber. 
Spring bows to thrill of cayenne summer!
Rainbow pleats dance, no clouds encumber 
my twirling limbs, life's weaved sashay. 
Spring bows to thrill of cayenne summer,
dreams spiced in youthful glow come May!

Spring sighs with age come broaching summer,
blue tears, red smiles ‘round pole in May.
Life's colors flow from gold to umber.  
Spring sighs with age come broaching summer! 
And shall I join wind’s lively number
or watch bright ribbons twist and play?
Spring sighs with age come broaching summer,
blue tears, red smiles ‘round pole in May!


written 2/5/15

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Moonbeams

The moonbeams crossed the horizon
Carrying the sun in its wake
Soft light 'pon the grass like diamonds
The moonbeams crossed the horizon 
Caressing each scrutiny wizened 
Opaque hopes and moods forsake
The moonbeams crossed the horizon
Carrying the sun in its wake

Written: September 25, 2014
Sponsor: Alfred Vassallo
Contest: One New Triolet

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

How Softly, Deeply

In silence, undisturbed tonight,
how softly, deeply Winter creeps,
imparting token mounds of white.
In silence, undisturbed tonight,
Full Moon, who casts pearlescent light,
is keeper of a world that sleeps
in silence undisturbed tonight.
How softly, deeply Winter creeps.

Posted 12/30/09, my 8th post after
 I joined right before Christmas of that year!

For Brian Strand's 
ANY POEM FROM YOUR FIRST 100 ON PS 
any form/any theme max 15 lines Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2009


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Florida Nature

Where settlers came in search of gold, they found instead a golden grove. Trees burst with fruit, for sun is bold where settlers came in search of gold. No precious ore, but wealth untold; rich landscape is the treasure trove! Where settlers came in search of gold, they found instead a golden grove. Inspired by Robert Butler's "Golden Grove" Written March 5, 2015, for the Florida Nature Contest of Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Breath of Love

In autumn’s wind, I look up to the sky. How sweet the breath of love upon my face! In rustling leaves, I hear you softly sigh; in autumns wind, I look up to the sky and see what time and death cannot erase. . . In guise of sun’s bright rays, you are nearby! In autumn’s wind, I look up to the sky. How sweet the breath of love upon my face! Written 2/7/2015 for the Contest of Gail Angel Doyle

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Bringing in the May

This sunny morn, a maying we will go.
We seek bright blooms for garlands and our queen.
The best month of the year is here, and so
this sunny morn, a maying we will go
into the woods where wildest blossoms grow.
With baskets in our hands; through fields of green,
this sunny morn, a maying we will go.
We seek bright blooms for garlands and our queen.

We’ll weave a pole with ribbons round and round.
the queen presiding over all we do,
We‘ll dance and sing with a most joyful sound.
We’ll weave a pole with ribbons round and round,
and garlands we will make from flowers found,
and for the queen, a crown we’ll fashion too.
We’ll weave a pole with ribbons round and round.
the queen presiding over all we do.

A king there must be, and he is the one
who races fastest to the Hawthorne tree.
My eye has been upon the baker’s son!
A king there must be, and he is the one
who’ll stay with me until the day is done.
You see, the queen they chose this day is me!
A king there must be, and he is the one
who races fastest to the Hawthorne tree.

(Can't believe I accidentally deleted this one after putting it up the other day)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015


Details | Triolet Poem | |

3 Musketeers A collaboration with Casarah Nance and Tim Smith

I wrote a poem of despair 
My hearts been tossed up into the air 

She wrote a limerick that was taboo 
She made me laugh when I was so blue 

Entering stage left was Tim 
Writing of past lovers sins in a hymn 

It seems that we laugh or we cry 
We live, we love, or we die 

The three of us, holding poetic swords up high 
Throughout the ages we all do fly 

No subject goes unspoken 
For the freedom of words we've awoken 

No battle to long or too fierce 
Our duels are true and unrehearsed. 

Through blood, sweat and tears 
A bond so strong that sweetens the years 

All for one and one for all 
Let us carry on and have a ball!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Blindfolded

Into the mirror, blindfolded, Denying the sight of my sins. Upon my flesh lies are molded, Into the mirror, blindfolded. From my mind to heart is scolded, Suffocate the light, darkness wins Into the mirror, blindfolded, Denying the sight of my sins.
For Contest: New Triolet Date: 09-26-2014

Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Perhaps One Day (For Avatar)

I finally got to see Avatar and as a HUGE movie fan, I was very impressed. It could very 
well get the Oscar (although I still love "500 Days of Summer" or "Up in the Air" for an 
Oscar!)

   (a Triple Triolet)

Where blues and purples dominate,
Pandora beckons from beyond.
Entranced by it, I gravitate. . . 
Where blues and purples dominate,
a way of life to celebrate
and with creation, share a bond.
Where blues and purples dominate,
Pandora beckons from beyond.

There stands a tall strong mother tree,
and mountains float upon the sky.
What many wonders you can see!
There stands a tall strong mother tree
inside this forest fantasy;
take hold a huge bright beast and fly!
There stands a tall strong mother tree,
and mountains float upon the sky.

Perhaps one day we’ll understand,
as did the one named Avatar,
to live in peace, stand hand in hand.
Perhaps one day we’ll understand
to say “I see you;” love our land;
no need to leave and travel far!
Perhaps one day we’ll understand
as did the one named Avatar.

 Jan. 8, 2010

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


Details | Triolet Poem | |

DO YOU LOVE ME

You told me simply we were friends But you conceal your aching heart My love for you it never ends You told me simply we were friends Dreaming of you my heart ascends Forbidden love keeps us apart You told me simply we were friends But you conceal your aching heart 09~26~14 Written for One New Triolet Contest Sponsored By Alfred Vassallo

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


Details | Triolet Poem | |

Every Time I Have You Close- Triolet Sonnet

 



Every time I have you close my dear This remarkable yearning of you brings me home The sound of your voice reaches the clouds so far Every time I have you close my dear My lips are stilled to me you're like a star In my heart I evoke your name and just roam Every time I have you close my dear... This remarkable yearning of you brings me home And I am so happy to have your love so far Every time I have you close my dear I know that losing you would leave me a scar And rhymes like before no more would flow Every time I have you close my dear This remarkable yearning of you brings me home. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2014 October.2.2014 My triolet sonnet here is free style ...that means, I didn't write it with 8 or 10 syllables or any steady number of syllable pattern at all. That's simple!

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014