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Best Quintain (Sicilian) Poems

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Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Dreamtime: flowers never bloom

I heard my name  from shadows spoke,
beyond the place called time

where thoughts begin, from deep within
where names have never been

It's there I found the driftless peace
upon the sunlit glen

far from the distant cloudless nights
where hope has never been

I felt the tears of morning dew
the Angels left for you

I'll shine a light upon your path
that sunrise never knew

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Haste

Who walks into forever maudlin and seeking heights misplaced ?
What tortured memories, would mankind wish most undone, unsung?
When time's tide seeks to gather grace, with each painful thought displaced, 
Where fullness bursts, how happy will those emptied heart-holds be once wrung?
Why waste the gift of life seeking solace with such unbridled haste.


Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

A Reason to live

The flower opens its chalice
Of tender petals to the sun
Pleasant object of the bee's fun
Making sweet honey in this bliss
Each to know what life brings, a gift.

The lily fears not the outcome
When the time comes to open
And offer the world its essence
It only knows it to be a good one
Pleased even when it is plucked out.

The rose will not open until
It is encircled in sunshine warmth
It dances in the light, a force
Felt to its core, trusting its will
To be a delight, its reason to live.

By CarolineCécile
Copyright 05.13.11

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

A Prelude

Shy is the February sun Above the frazzled fatherland However hearts are not undone Giving instead a warmer brand Holding one closer under the sun.
A prelude to Valentine's day.

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

No second glance

There I stood, barely nine
as he was taken in the light of day.
A prisoner of fate was I, given no sign,
to witness his limp body bruised lay,
yet as adult walked away from his shrine. 

There I stood, steeling my stance
for the sake of my silence
as children mocked, giving no chance.
From solitude I drew my resilience
and gave no second glance. 

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

To Chase the Sunlight

Days of children's innocence
Have gone a shade of grey
By a society focused on the senses
Overpowering the need for spiritual higher grade
As self gratification has become its trend

 
Homes, empty, gone to silence
Parents gone to pursue their agenda
Children have become orphans
Rely on TV, movies, games for stamina
Where is Bora Bora, they have no notion.

 
Growing up with a new kind of parents
Holding in their hand, the remote control
Feeding on the degrading fashions and trends
Eating chips and exercising thumbs like robots
Can't spell a word, but can cuss at length.

 
It is high time to wake up
To this sad reality, with a world
That shows such terrifying stunts
That offer little hope to unfurl
Let us chase the sunlight before tomorrow's up.

 
By CarolineCécile
Copyright 05.07.11

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Foreshadow

Wonder when
the sun will break through
these clouds that have entered
the skies no longer blue
its favorite color.

Wonder when
these eyes will see through
the fog that has obscured
the light of the avenue
where love is discovered.

Wonder when
the tree will bear fruits
Have I given it enough water
enrich the soil enough for strong roots?
I see buds have sprung open.

And I know
the sky has not lost its blue
the soul sees even when the fog obscures
blooming foreshadows fruition, so it continues
what begins in love, never ends.

By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 08.12.11

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Rest

With your head on my lap, your breath falls deep.
My gentle fingers swirl and twirl your hair.
A hidden smile conveyed by your cheeks.
My hand then lowers to your face with care.
And beautiful eyes are now lost to sleep.

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Goodbye and letting go

It's hard to go day by day, 
Remembering all you had to say; 
I think about you everyday, 
I thought of you teh most today. 

Missing you is a hard job, 
Loving you an easy job; 
Wanting to hold you tightly, 
Wanting to hear you talk softly. 

My heart breaks when I'm not with you, 
Sometimes I just don't know what to do; 
I can still remember that goodbye, 
Wish it wasn't the last bye. 

My memories fade slowly, 
Your face I hold dearly; 
Sometimes not clearly, 
Oh how I wish you were near me. 

I can write, 
I can cry, 
I can scream, 
I can forget, 
I can get mad at the world, 
No matter what I do, the pain gets worse. 

I'm sorry, 
But goodbye and letting go, are impossible.

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Open the Floodgate's (I serve a living God) pt.2

{Serving a living GOD= Of all the insecure phenominals that has plague our citie's and
                                   brought much much saddness on our sister's and Brothers in our
                                    armed forces or abroad. The mercifulness of his power shall
                                   prove itself, over the forces of evil soon within the process of
                                   time. Don't let the predicament's of our Nation cause you to loose
                                    your mind.}

Poem: In a world that has gotten away from the tradition of living and respecting the his-
torical pentecostal effigy of what is written. To a wayward land of oppourtunistic individuals
that thrive's on doing what is forbidden. To a world that has polluted itself with addiction and
allienating the innocent and the tribulation from Nation too nation's. When someone can walk-
out of your life, "the saying of old is to let them go". But does one dare ask to debate of
this "living God" to "Open the Floodgate's, let it rain, rain in membranch of Hirroshema, 911
and Pearl Harbor and this man-made war in Afghanistan". Touching you spiritually, "let it
rain, of him who create's man from the grain of sand". Many times trying to hold onto some-
one or something that has gotten you away from a life of permissitive and impotent wisdom, 
has cause many of us to make decision's sommily on lust of the flesh.  "I come not to des-
troy but that you may have life and have it more abundantily, to set free, I shall return but 
do not wait. (The Lord spoke these words of Knowledge)
"Open the floodgate's", a living God would not tell you, take a loaded plane full of people's
and fly them into a building, so satin your present is "not up for debate". He has taken the
essence of time and the concept that shall never have to wait, in this world of no love.  He
will cause the sky to give way of the emnity that lie's in wait.
"Open the Floodgate's, let it rain - rain on the lost and the children's who needs to debate".

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

NIGHT WATCHMAN

The flame in contest combats the chill of the night
I see an old man in remembrance of his youth
his words gaped in jest if only to shroud life’s plight
scars of countless carnal lies a hub of untruth.
In the brazier raindrops snarl, routine so trite.

for my uncle, R.I.P

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

All I Want For Christmas is .... Christmas

It disappeared, we gave it away.
I’d like to find it again, for sure.
A good old fashioned holiday,
one without the digital manure,
the hype and verbal foreplay. 

© 03 Dec 2010   Charles Henderson

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Forever and a Day

Each February brings that special chance,
One day a year to say the words of love,
Without a love to share the wined romance,
Instead I look up to the stars above,
While remembering days when we would dance.

Those nights I held you close, so close to me,
Or held your hand while walking by the shore,
Those times we were young and loving free,
Yet now each day means that I miss you more,
But when I close my eyes you’re all I see.

No day goes by without a thought of you,
Each morning brings that now familiar ache,
And skies never seem to be quite as blue,
For you, my heart, I can never forsake,
You are my words and ev’rything I do .

Each February brings that special chance,
One day a year to say the words of love,
I have a love to share divine romance,
When e’er I look up to the stars above,
And remember the time you and I danced.






Form: Sicilian Quintains

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Nature's Superdome

There is no thing I have seen like the Florida sky,
Mushroom towers build on bulging dark pillows,
when storm clouds tumble o’er birds on the fly.
Haphazardly honed and shaped by front’s bellows.
Nature daily debuted for my beauty hungry eye.





written 7/10/11
(In Florida, a short afternoon thunderstorm 
in the heat of the day during Summer months
is almost a daily occurrence.)


Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Positive Thinking

I will think positive so I can be,
To think of defeat means only to lose,
 So I shall think of how winning suits me,
And how I will live my life as I choose,
It’s all in my mind and my mind thinks free.

The power of thought, a wonderful thing,
My philosophy that lifts my heart high,
I believe in rainbows where bluebirds sing,
And if I want to, I can kiss the sky,
And it doesn’t matter what dark clouds bring. 





Form: Sicilian Quintrains

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

My Little Bird

I heard my little bird singing the breeze,
I heard her singing on a breath of air,
The air that slowly moves through forest trees,
The old, oak trees where initials declare,
Declarations made upon love’s high trapeze.

Old memories recalled again today,
Another day, another time, we knew,
I knew that bird song would echo my way,
The way a joyful song reminds of you,
The you that I hold dear in my heart to stay.

In memory of my little bird, Tash

RIP sweetheart!

xxxx





Form: Sicilian Quintains

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

On Living and Working

Living this life and trying to make a living
Is sometimes hard,
And it requires taking along with some giving,
With due regard
To the fact; you’ll need to do some adlibbing.

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Celestial songs

 Chords  upon strings are played with finesse
bringing forth celestial  songs
As angels their slender strings caress 
 A symphony of harps played by heavenly throngs
soothing the soul  while they bless

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

A different scene

Someone called for me Who? I cannot see An invitation to leave Not long, just a week Right where my son would be. Giving my hands I decided To join and help a team People I knew, people I didn't With my heart, I entered the scene A place that's different. A beautiful pine hidaway The tallest I've ever seen To the wind, the branches sway To cloudless skies, they reach Dancing their hearts away. Thousands of voices it seems Much commotion around the trees Not silence, but I'm warm, at peace I give you my hands, have no speech Tuned in to the concert of birds, wind, and trees. © CarolineCecile - 07.21.12

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

if less than 123 people view this i will slice my arm latterally so they can't save me

                       
                                      GOD CRAM IT

Isn’t it ironic that every time you think God has let up on you for a while
He steals your most cherished item or lover along with a rented smile
At exactly the point you know that hope is a thing of the past for you
God sneaks up and grants you something too good to  be true

And see, that’s my  point, it seems so good that it can’t be real
And only forty-seven angels in Heaven know the way I feel
But based on past experience and what I’ve been through
Ain’t nothing new about him blessing and cursiing me with you

But as love doubled, tripled and exponentially increased
God kicks me in the ass and says “sorry, that lover was only leased”
He adds a remark like “and I won’t let her, by you, ever again to be rented
S**t, talk about all the stuph God has done that I've resented

So ironic as it seems this is all the God given truth, I know
And I can tell you in exquisite detail just where your Lord and you can go
You are just the latest lady to jump in and out of my life of late
And I understand, your God told me that when I purchase you there ins’t any rebate
    © 2010.….Poefree

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

tell our fathers

They came and walked on this soil,
hands and feet shod in chains.
They marched through unending roads,
a highway of pain and sorrows.
The shackles of slavery burdened their souls.
They awoke each day,
with fears in their minds and prayers in their hearts.
They died with a song on their lips.
They passed on with a message of hope.
When you cross over the rivers,
tell our fathers that our chains are hungs as memorials.
We have stayed too long on the road,
we have finally reached our homes.
We are dinning in a large house with greatlights,
our children are walking happily on the streets,
the Nations stand in awe of us,
as they have become witnesses of what is possible.
Our gown of mourning has been torn,
we are clothed with a marriage gown.
Salvation has come with healing on its wings,
for our father's captivity is turned around.
If you hear us cry today,
if our tears fill your censers above,
think not that we are in chains.
for today our dream is born.
For we cry in our songs,
we cry in our prayers,
we cry through our smiles,
we cry because change has come.
We will teach our children this story.
The story of redemption.
Tell our fathers,
to sleep in peaceful bliss.
For though the struggle may continue,
 we know that victory is certain.

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Gods and Demons

A world of wonder dwells inside of me,
Both gods and demons playing their own part,
My spirit journeys time and space to see,
The greatest truth that echoes in my heart,
As on the wind, I seek my destiny.

In Nature’s love, I know I’m truly blessed,
Through all life’s pain and strife that I must bear,
And through the joys and love that fill my breast,
I feel the tenderness of Nature’s care,
Until, at last, I meet final request.




Form: Sicilian Quintains

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Jesus Cares

You look frustrated, my friend;
Could it be downs like no end ?
And feelings that more could come?
Tell Jesus. With you He will stay in the storm

You think you  are dejected
And being conceive you regretted
You are never alone
All you face Jesus knows.

If only you know like me
That you are not desolate;
You will get over joy at what you will see
Jesus at all time is never late

Rough life stages are not long;
That is, see it like that.
Work through it and be strong;
Always Jesus cares deep in His heart.

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

WHAT EASTER MEANS TO ME

He growed to be a shepard and a man of faith and hope.
He healed the sick and feed the poor and taught people to cope.
A mother cried for the death of her son.
But to our heavenly father he had won.

He walked and taught Gods word to all mankind.
The people that he saved his words did not mind.
A mother cried for the death of her son.
But to our heavenly father he had won.

He was nailed to a cross and he died for our sins.
Buried in a tomb and in three days he rose again.
A mother cried for the death of her son.
But to our heavenly father he had won.
                             Teresa Skyles
Entered in Gwendolynn "What Easter means to me"contest

Details | Quintain (Sicilian) Poem | |

Homeward Bound

The runic pattern cast upon the ground, 
That calls wandering Celt to journey home,
To sacred lands where mighty kings were crowned,
And there hearts dwell while the feet may roam,
Ancient songs of Mystery once more found.

O Celt, now sing the song within your heart,
And love the fertile lands of Mother Earth,
But leave no lasting scars as you depart,
Protect her well for future love and mirth,
Respect her mortal realms of divine art.




Form: Sicilian Quintains