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Best Quatern Poems

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

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New Quatern Poems

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

Retaliation Betrayal by Key, N.
A l w a y s - The Quatern Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Soldiers of Light and Love by Adeite, Adeleke
The Silver Ring Virginia Gave to Me by Dietrich, Andrea
The Book - The Quatern Style by Petersen Potter, Dorian
Sweet Opportunity by Dietrich, Andrea
Heart to Heart by Lindsey, Catie
Never Again by Edwards, Karen
On Halloween, Beneath a Crescent Moon by Dietrich, Andrea
Empty Shoes by Haight, Sandra

View all new Quatern Poems

The Best Quatern Poems

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Each Little Drop of Rain I See

Each little drop of rain I see goes plink plink plink into the pond, then disappears so easily as if I’d waved a magic wand! Inside the pond’s refreshment goes each little drop of rain I see. How calm this scene, for no wind blows; all thoughts mundane from my mind flee. A fragrance wafts enchantingly to greet my nose with scent of pink! Each little drop of rain I see keeps falling falling plink plink plink. Reflected on the water’s skin, pink blossoms ripple joy to me while in this moment I take in each little drop of rain I see. Written Aug. 12, 2016 for the Rain Poetry Contest of Eve Roper


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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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!

First posted 10/30/2014
Now for the Any Poem Contest of Broken Wings


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

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Beatitude Number Three

“Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”  Matthew 5:5

Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”
It’s better - turn the other cheek
than let yourself lose self-control.
Vengeance will rob you of your soul.

A humble person is not weak.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”
When we use self-discipline,
we show God’s power from within!

God implied to stand for others -
not ourselves, but for our brothers.
Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”
Be thoughtful and with kindness speak!

The world is filled too much with pride.
Submit to God; be on His side!
If peace on earth is what you seek,
Jesus said, “Blessed are the meek.”







Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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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. For the Memories Poetry Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

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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



Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014

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May Lilacs Linger Everlastingly

May lilacs linger everlastingly
in dreams he dreams of me. Whenever he,
by chance, is in a pitch black room alone,
may he recall the scent of my cologne.

As long as I can write sweet poetry,
may lilacs linger everlastingly.
May he recall our love song slowly playing;
how we danced, pressed together, swaying.

And may he still remember my warm breath
against his cheek. Beyond his very death,
may lilacs linger everlastingly
the same way he stays in my memory.

Oh, may he not forget - when shadows fall -
our kisses in the dark. We had it all!
My darling man, may he remember me.
May lilacs linger everlastingly

written Dec. 31, 2015 

Now For the For the Best Love Poem #4 Poetry Contest of PD


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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Nature Lovers

Breathing feather-whispers ever sweetly
upon my neck, oh, how he pleases me!
Irises beneath long lashes gazing
down at me are gold-tinged and amazing.

Near moonlit water, on a beach are we,
breathing feather-whispers ever sweetly.
Our legs are intertwined; my cheek is pressed
against love’s rhythm beating in his chest.

His fingers trace the line along my spine
as stars peek down at us and brightly shine.
Breathing feather-whispers ever sweetly,
caress us, Wind, before the night can flee!

Like ocean’s waves that come to kiss the land,
our passion mounts. Unbridled on the sand,
I give myself gladly and completely -
breathing feather-whispers ever sweetly.


Hope it's ok if we used a few more than six body parts
in a Body of Works Poetry Contest. Here are all mine:
Neck/ Irises/ Lashes/ legs/ cheek/ chest/ fingers/ spine


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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When Winter Comes, Remember Me

==============================

When Winter comes, remember me 
beside you on lush ivory sand. 
If icy fingers beckon thee, 
arise and brush aside her hand. 

As you awake on shortening days, 
when Winter comes, remember me. 
Then frost just may forsake her grays 
and set hushed rays of color free. 

Light snow may fall so subtly, 
pale notes on parchment sheer as sleet, 
when Winter comes. Remember me
and I shall play each shivering sheet. 

July's abundant harvest gone, 
I'm owed no Summer memory 
but hope you will, from this day on, 
when Winter comes, remember me....

==============================


Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015

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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


Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013

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Wait for me to come home - Quatern

Wait for me to come home to you
it's hard, but we can see this through
Distance is tough, but we are strong
my heart beats lyrics to our song

Trust me, you don't need something new
wait for me to come home to you
Soon we'll be in each others arms
enlightened by those subtle charms

These words are honest and sincere
please keep the faith and have no fear
Wait for me to come home to you
being without you makes me blue

All relationships have these tests
not what the fairytale suggests
One day all our dreams will come true
wait for me to come home to you

27 January 2016
SHOW ME QUATERN POETRY! (I Like Mine Rhymed) - Poetry Contest by Andrea Dietrich

8 Syllables per line
checked via www.howmanysyllables.com

Quatern

A Quatern is a sixteen line French form composed of four quatrains. It is similar to the Kyrielle and the Retourne. It has a refrain that is in a different place in each quatrain. The first line of stanza one is the second line of stanza two, third line of stanza three, and fourth line of stanza four. A quatern has eight syllables per line.







Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Butterfly Memories

Butterfly memories never can die. They shine, so I don’t even have to try to search for them, for easily I find them in a small gold box inside my mind. When I’m melancholy, they make me sigh. Butterfly memories never can die. I give my treasure box a tiny tap, and memories awaken from their nap. How beautiful are my jeweled butterflies. They softly flutter as I watch them rise. Butterfly memories never can die. I take them out sometimes to let them fly. They settle on my muse from time to time, then sparkle forth with words of rhyme sublime! Though my soul will leave this realm by and by, butterfly memories never can die. written May 19, 2016 for the ___________ memories contest of PD


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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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)


Copyright © tara jennings | Year Posted 2010

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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”


Copyright © Sharon Tideswell | Year Posted 2010

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Rosewood

The truth stood downcast in the lie,
and more than one that week would die
when someone’s wife, who feared great shame,
then gave an innocent the blame.

Her scapegoat was both young and shy.
The truth stood downcast in the lie.
Her lover beat her, so she said
it was the young shy man instead!

Her face was bruised. What could she say
to take her lover’s blame away?
The truth stood downcast in the lie. 
The town took up a mob’s cruel cry!

The man accused was black of skin.
They lynched him for the woman’s sin.
The world looked on and asked not why
the truth stood downcast in the lie.


Written Aug. 3, 2016 
for the Truth Stood Downcast in the Lie Poetry Contest of John Lawless


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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On Halloween, Beneath a Crescent Moon

On Halloween, beneath a crescent moon, a dark-haired man, pale-faced, I chanced to see. He danced with grace and beauty to each tune the band was playing. Would he dance with me? At last he asked me, “May I dance with you?” On Halloween, beneath a crescent moon, his breath was on my cheek. My passion grew. Within his arms, I thought that I would swoon. How beautiful he was! But all too soon he left me, saying he would wait for me on Halloween beneath a crescent moon, beyond some trees in shadows he pointed to. His first name, all I knew of him, was Sloan. But past the trees I heard his sweet voice croon. It led me where his name shone on a gravestone on Halloween, beneath a crescent moon. Written Oct. 18, 2016 for the May I Dance With You contest of Galeo DS


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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Sweet Opportunity

Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost
when placed too nonchalantly on a list,
and somehow off that list it just gets crossed!
How sad to realize the good you’ve missed!

Great chances must be grabbed! They rarely wait.
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost.
The wise man takes each chance that comes his way.
Procrastinators see their chance get tossed!

Some stick with what they know, but at what cost?
Suppose new treatments could postpone your death.
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost.
Regret could haunt you to your dying breath.

An island holiday you do not take
when it is offered. So you wake to frost
outside your window on your late fall break.
Sweet opportunity is sometimes lost!

Oct. 29, 2016 for the Opportunity Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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The Silver Ring Virginia Gave to Me

The silver ring Virginia gave to me
has been in my possession many years.
And though it's only costume jewelry,
how beautiful to me it still appears!

The first time I saw shining on her hand
the silver ring Virginia gave to me,
I was amazed. I said I loved it, and
she parted with it so unselfishly!

So pretty is its pattern - filigree.
She took it off her hand, and it became
the silver ring Virginia gave to me,
its stone of azure blue bright as a flame!

This year I learned Virginia passed away.
To think in nearly half a century
I'd seen her not, yet kept until this day
the silver ring Virginia gave to me.

Written Nov. 3, 2016 , 
For Broken Wing's  Old Jewelry or Just Old Things or Old, Old Poems Contest

(Virginia was a few years older than me when i saw this ring on her finger during church youth group. I was maybe 13 years old and was so surprised
when she just took it off her finger and let me have the pretty treasure!
I heard she lived a very good life. I never saw her again after I left for college.)


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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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.


Copyright © Tim B | Year Posted 2011

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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


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012

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Circles

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.


Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2015

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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


Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011

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A Thing of Beauty

=================================

A thing of beauty on her wrist
is confiscated by a nurse
who looks for items soldiers missed
in places (and by means) much worse.

They brand her when she enters camp,
a thing of beauty on her wrist
replaced by Hitler's horrid stamp,
a stinging band below her fist.

They marched her mother through the mist
on to the bath that was her last,
a thing of beauty on HER wrist
gone too, she saw as Mama passed.

Now, she who bears the mark of war
lives free and wears her scar not with
remorse... it's more, at eighty-four,
a thing of beauty on her wrist...

========================





Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015

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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


Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014

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I am a Narcissus White

I am a Narcissus (White)

Once, I stole a glance
Upon my petalled like
Saw, they stood no chance
Of matching my delight

I turned from seeking beauty
In natures glory field
The bright, the gaudy, sultry
To none I’d ever yield

Standing by this pond
Reflection I do see
Of the one I’m fond
Me, admiring me

I’ll stand here till I die
Ignore those which I’m kinned
Obsessed with being I
Till perish with the wind.


I chose Narcissus (White)
Its meaning =Selfishness

For Picture Yourself as a Flower Contest
Sponsor; Andrea Dietrich


Copyright © Richard D Seal | Year Posted 2015

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Snowflake


A crystal lattice so Devine
Slowly falling on earth supine
Surely we now must redefine
Our place in nature so sublime

Such elegant beauty a shrine
A crystal lattice so Devine
Each delicate flake is a sign
Slivers of heaven gods design

Ephemeral glory is thine
Fragile resplendence so benign
A crystal lattice so Devine
Fleeting splendour to death consign

Complex simplicity combine
Enchantment one cannot decline
Nor Michelangelo refine
A crystal lattice so Devine 


Dedicated to my friend Mary Jo who so loves the snow.
Written 04/05/2015








Copyright © Shane Cooper | Year Posted 2015