Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

Quatrain Water Poems | Quatrain Poems About Water

These Quatrain Water poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Water. These are the best examples of Quatrain Water poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Quatrain |

Can You Spare A Teardrop

I cried for so long, so many nights,
and now no more tears can drop,
I'm all out, do you have some to spare,
cause you know once I start, I can't stop.

I go on for days with a heavy heart,
no tears fall, though inside I'm crying,
I feel empty, hollow, dark inside,
a soul dead, and still is dying.

Can I fill a bucket from your well,
the sun came out, dried up my rain,
I'll take them carefully, try not to spill,
cause I've got a need to ease the pain.

That feeling of washing away the sorrow,
with trickling tear-water, clear and cool,
soothes the soul, relaxes the ache,
can I dive right into your swimming pool?

I need to pour out your flowing brook,
to keep me crying a river for today,
I want to hold despair in my hands,
please let this melancholy feeling stay.

Out of Water contest
placed 14th

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Silver Waves Upon The Shore

Pushed there for a thousand years
and will be for a thousand more,
pushed there by the gentle winds
the silver waves upon the shore.

Ancient trees who watched here daily
are now dark silhouettes 'round the rim,
as dusk settles in over the still lake
and a dragonfly takes a final skim.

As the sun dips below the surface
silver waters gain a hint of gold,
their riches flow around my feet
giving me memories to be told.

The sands of time sift down below
where life goes drifting by,
and laid there for a thousand years
and beneath them, so shall I.

And become like a silhouette
to watch all life drift by,
and reliving in every moment
never stopping to ask why.

Pushed there by flowing currents
and the wind's most gentle roar,
I fade away like the golden sun
glint silver waves upon the shore.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

I Am the Waters

I am a flake of winter snow
on cold and driven wind.
I've been cool drops of rain so slow
from darkened clouds unpinned.

I am the sting of frigid sleet
that makes one's skin so raw.
I've been the course of waters fleet
as winter yields to thaw.

I am the face of ice-bound lake
which hides its life beneath.
I've been the tossing waves that break
and tides which time bequeath.

I am the snow in drifted row
piled deep before your door.
I've been a river wide and slow
to live on and explore.

I am the waters flowing still,
perpetual as time.
I've been the earth's unbroken will
still granting life, sublime.

                     I am the Waters

Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

A Nook And A Storybook

A Nook And A Story Book Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper

There was a day last week that I felt alone and sad,
   I carried days of grief and would pray for sweet dreams,
     I held onto a glimmer of hope when I had an idea,
       to get lost in my favorite book outside on the porch swing.

Sensuality of a solitary soul with desires of social freedom,
  pretty dear Edna lost inside a condemning creole heritage,
    although she loved the Gulf of Mexico and New Orleans,
     she had love affairs with charming men during her marriage.

Her appetite for passion wasn’t accepted in the nineteenth century,
   she craved lustful intimacy when it was strictly forbidden,
     Edna wanders around and finds herself within sexual promiscuity,
       in a small town news travels fast, even if she wanted it hidden.

Once wedded to the rich Leonce who traveled far too often,
  Edna yearned for the embrace of other appealing suitors,
    fantasizing beyond all common sense of comprehension,
       alas she was constantly damned by hypocritical persecutors.

Satisfactions and warm memories sooth her darkest nights,
   she thinks of her affair with Robert as she closes her eyes,
     so deeply did he love her, although she only craved his physique,
       she wore erotic moments on her back for a disguise.

Because of her rejection of the roles as a wife and mother,
   she was an outcast, a fading woman lost in fear and sorrow,
     no more love and lust to quench her deep thirst,
       she awakens…not wanting to face another tomorrow.

Drowning herself in the deep water of the Gulf of Mexico,
   released her from her miserable anguish she called home,
     no longer could another touch her the way she needed,
       she ended up living her last moments in despair while alone.

This poem is about the book "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin
The original name was "Solitary Soul"

Date Written: April 28, 2016

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

The Meaning Of Love

The Meaning of Love

Sitting on the water the moon dipping in his toes
Water rippling down, towards the sea it goes.
Making love under the moonlit sky so bright
As one together, on one never-to-be forgotten night.

Ripples of water matched by ripples of fear
Trembling together but not even near
Eons apart but matched in one thought
It cannot be stopped, it cannot be fought.

The moon need not be there, the river may dry up
The stars never seen, the wine they did not sup
Together they can be as one without even a touch
In thought and word only, the passion too much.

To fetch the passion to it’s desired end
Words of love and time one needs to spend
To come and reach the final conclusion
Together as one, it is no illusion.

Happiness can be reached though eons apart
Though time and circumstance tug at the heart
To never be alone in word thought or deed
Always to be there, when the other is in need.

© 22/12/2012 ~GG~

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

Beyond the Ripples

 She has become too sad to smile
 A broken heart made her laughter cease
 She'll walk by the water for a while
 And let her thoughts find peace

 Ducklings waddle up to her
 Expecting to get a treat
 But she has no food to offer
 Just the sad look of defeat

 She tosses a small stone into the pond
 And watches as the ripples spread afar
 Her thoughts have floated beyond
 The ripples, a broken heart does leave its scars...

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quatrain |

Water of Life

What difference to me
Is the source of the pain,
From an ancient salt ocean
Or a pool of spring rain.

The clever deceptions
Of color, grace and form
Veil the singular predations
Of a savage, feeding swarm.

From deadly microbe
To frenzied piranha,
Shocking my tingler to
The Great White Flick O' Rama.

The water of life shall be
The death of me this year.
Coincidentally, it is ice that soothes
My puffy, red jellyfish tears.

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Swimming Lessons

A test of the water,
A dip of my toe.
Undeniably chilly,
But bearably so.

Before I can swim,
I must get undressed.
I’ll start with my shirt,
And then all the rest.

I’ll glance about shyly,
Then just take the dive.
Returning for air,
Now I’m feeling alive.

This is how poetry
Ever will be.
A definite risk,
But a way to be free.

I show to the world,
What others won’t bare.
My vulnerable soul,
Under scrupulous glare.

Just as the clear water,
A feeble veil makes.
So scarcely can prose
Conceal life’s mistakes.

So under some metaphor
Or in simile
If you are looking,
You’ll find naked me.

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Beauty of the Pond

The pond laps on the side edge of itself Tiny waves form by the moon’s influence Ripples formed by all the tree’s seeds falling Beauty of this scene has some innocence Reflections in the pond are barely there Wavy image appears on the surface A calming feel is presented right here Each ripple arrives as if in a race Light ricochets off the water’s bright form Opening my heart to wondrous beauty Safely this pond allows me perfect ease My soul’s receptive of tranquility I throw pebbles in the inviting pond I see some fish rising to water’s top Showing off and tempting me to catch them I’ll remember joy, never the teardrops Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

A Community Pool in Richmond

Paper art was tongue steeped wet,
Midnight’s swim in gel.
Tactile only silhouette,
Dense unseen new shell.

Dawn’s hot shower could not clean,
Midday’s warmth woke me.
Slow cures had tapped time’s canteen,    
Blotter’s spell rinsed free.

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Cold River Run

Cold river run, November morn,
past village sleeping, day yet born.
Dark, murky waters pass the quay
absorb each sound along the way.

An ice-cold flow that numbs like death.
Those passing see white, misty breath.
Though laced with ice its soul must flow
to seek out deltas wide and slow.

Late fall has seen harsh wind and flake.
Cold river knows it's autumn's wake.
It drifts past field and icy glen,
and speaks the season's last, 'amen.'

Long past our village, down its course,
cold river warms without remorse.
It knows new waters meld upstream,
to speak November's frigid theme.

                        Cold River Run

Copyright © Brian Baumgarn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

The Ondine

In reservoirs, far underground,
where stalagmites are sometimes found.
In lakes and ponds and puddled pools,
in mist and marsh and snow that cools,
I hide beside my sisters. 

In issuing springs that sparkle bright,
on stony slopes of shade and light, 
to flowing streams that twist and turn, 
past meadow banks of grass and fern,
I glide beside my sisters. 

In river reach with rippling flow
‘tween rush and reed I always go,
to delta mouths both deep and wide,
which seas contest at every tide,
to glide beside my sisters.

In raging rapids torrents race,
or waterfall’s tumultuous pace,
in storm lashed seas, which crash and break,
on shingle shores that white waves rake,
I ride beside my sisters.

And who am I that rides so free, 
who glides and hides so easily;
a mermaid in the salty sea,
a naiad or a white kelpie?
A water nymph you just might see,
me ride, beside my sisters.

Copyright © David Furlong | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Sailing These Seas

Sailing these seas, right now the waves are rough.
The ship is hard to steer, and I fear we may sink.
My crew has hope, but they don’t see what I do.
The water’s looking troubled, just like the way I think.

Sailing these seas, the waves have settled down.
The ship is sailing smoothly, I believe we’ll be okay.
My worries are at the back of my head.
I’ll save them for another day.

Sailing these seas, I think we’ve struck something!
My crew is in a panic, and I was not prepared.
Captain, don’t you know you always have to be cautious?
Even the leader sometimes gets scared.

Arriving at the shore, the ship barely intact.
Most of my crew is gone, but a few knew how to live.
They saved me when I needed them.
I want to show thanks, but I have nothing left to give.

*side note*

To me, this poem sort of symbolizes depression, while indirectly talking about it.

The first verse pretty much says
"I am in a bad place, and I have supporting friends/family, but they don't see what I'm going through the way I do."

Second: "Things are getting better and I've decided to stop worrying about bad things happening and try to be happy."

Third: "Whenever I start thinking about good things and have hope, something bad always happens and I should've been prepared for it."

Fourth: "I made it through it, but lost a lot of the people supporting me because they couldn't handle me while I was down, and whatever I went through weakened me so it's hard to show gratitude to the people who stayed."

Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |


AT THE WATER'S EDGE As I sit here at the water's edge I let the sand sift through my toes I watch the sun rise in the east Turn the sky a glorious, summer rose. As it rises 'bove the skyline A burgeoning orb now glows A globe of fire then bursts forth As the waves lap gently 'round my toes. By midday it's a blinding ball of fire Pouring searing heat like Hades' pledge The beach's sand absorbs the raging heat But it's serenely cool here at the water's edge. © ELR 2013

Copyright © Miss Wattle | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Judge Not

‘Til heaven quakes and hell erupts
     Judge not the souls of man
But be brave and do not disrupt
     The nature of a plan

Put into place and made with hands
     Much, much superior 
From where I stand and far more grand,
     I am inferior.

Without water thy soul does rust
     Water thy own garden
Believe in thee, in thee—I trust.
     And receive thy pardon

From thy fierce and fiery hell
     Of thy unwanted greed.
If not, I am destined to dwell,
     Lost, with nowhere to feed.

Copyright © Mike Butler | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |


A dance of elegance they leap
in grace of movements sweep
moonlights skipping on the waves
upon the circuits the currents paves

A Spanish Dancer twirls her skirt
whose painted like a rainbows shirt
Your works oh Jah blanket the Sea
where creatures frolic internally

Where Leafy Dragons in Reefs foray
the clown fish in anemone play
the razor fish like knives in sand
but foolish men think it's not planned

Where fierce and tender Orca steals
the infant pups of many Seals
where coral forests the oceans floor
the groves of Kelp hide many more

Odd companions the crab and shrimp
who share a hole like common tent
on flows the cisterns of the Deep
the lair where Leviathan do sleep

There flying fish cavort on wing
wild aquatic souls live and sing
here Dolphins cartwheel in escapade
in pods their dancing a parade 

Who understands the Songs of Whales
who carry calves and smack their tails
to starfish who cling the rock of Beaches
here low tides the mussels reaches 

These lives mankind has proved a danger
to poison Seas palace he is no stranger
Here predator man competes with Sharks
in every Sea his fatal marks

The Shark only does his hunt for meal
Mankind's a predator who kill and steal
Toxic pollution down rivers flow
the dead zones that kill the life below

Life perpetuates itself by designers plan
We question it's survival , it's death by Man
Those who love the earth these traits resist
There's too much beauty divinely kissed 

COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC

Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Fishing- Repost

Standing thigh high  on the riffle,
Feeling the current pull at my  knees.
Breathing deep.. my world is calm now,
Winged  beauty drifting by on the breeze.

My line floats out like a feather,
And patiently waits a strike from below.
My soul seeks the magic of water,
I'm lost in its ebb and its flow.

I admit its really not about catching,
I don’t care if the prey is  that clever.
The light gently leaving the canyon,
I want to hold this moment forever .

Why to we fight daily battles
Looking for fortune or fame?
I turn from this life of  unease,
The river is calling my name.

Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |



Though my boat be shaken and tossed,
Serenity is in the mind, in the soothed  soul --
My spirit’s not aching or forsaken.  Nor is it lost.
It needs no flow from smoothed shoal.

Not for me still waters, though they run deeply
In the placid pool behind a hinged lock-gate on a canal,
Or slowly with a meandering boat on the Mississippi.
I need contrast : this flowing peace is too banal.

Through a thunderstorm’s raging performance
And the torrent plunging itself to the abyss floor
Peace is in my mind : contrast between wild disturbance 
And mild tranquility is my key to the locked poetry door. 

Where the flowing tide consumes the sand,   
With the week’s hunger of a wolf without balm,
And hurls it about as a carcass of land  --
In this ocean storm with wave merciless, I feel only calm.

When the tumultuous shrieking wind and wave break 
And spend  themselves urgently on the silent sandy slope,
The tumblers of my locked imagination shake 
Open, and I feel the lull and pull of peace and hope.

A child in a warm bed listens to the windy rain on pane
And feels the same catalysis : and, peeping  at the driven rivulets,
Sees storms and hears the cries of lost sailors on the main,
And falls to sleep contented, secure beneath the coverlets.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Written  by  Sydney  Peck on   24  September 2011
For  Francine  Roberts’s   Contest   “Flowing water”

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain |

The Waves

Strolling along Myrtle Beach
Collecting shells in the sand
The waves become hypnotic
And the mood moves into grand.
So many thoughts and memories
Come rushing back with the waves
Thoughts that flood and can’t be stopped,
Some get panned, but some are raves.
Again and again
They flow in and out
Life reliving every decision
Life reliving every doubt.
Then sanity reasserts
For the mind knows what it knows
And hypnosis grinds to a halt
With the sand between my toes.
By E. Marshall Evans

Copyright © Ed Evans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

Water Bug Love

Melancholy water bug softly eating.
Linda rolling, endless, leaping.
Gentle passion lazily beating.
Salty apparition, silent, peeping.

Huge white horses gently blow,
Looming, ghostly white horses.
In summer breakers they surf and flow,
Beautiful, mostly complex courses.

Softly looming lazy Lin
Lifts her smooth, clog-clad fin.
Melancholy cricket clicks and hisses,
Waking, Tom, who hastily kisses.

Pungent passion water spout,
Crashing sexy lovers seeping.
Two little whatchamacallits twist and shout,
To summer Linda, swimming, reaping.

Skinny Linda gently ebbing.
Foamy spray sifts through her webbing.
Warm Tom lovingly stirring, laughing.
Fleet water beings jumping and splashing.

Eerie floating cytoplasmic forms
In pools of soupy water streams.
In pungent living sunspot storms
He cooks water bug love in the beams.

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |


Sunshine, life's primordial sustainer
Channeling to all, the sun's energy
Plant, animal, insect, fish or other
Without sunshine, not one of them would be 

Sunshine can uplift your mood and spirit
When you are feeling gloomy and depressed
It can cheer you up to rise above it
And impart a pleasant feeling of zest

Sunshine brightens the colours of flowers
Making them come alive in their glory
It possesses some magical powers
That transforms plainness into beauty

Sunshine on the gently rippling water
Creates a display of sparkling diamonds
Reverberating like silent laughter
That induces blissful joy in response

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain |

Feeding The Ducklings

Feeding The Ducklings Contest Sponsor: Eve Roper Penny had just walked down to the town market, saved up all her money to buy a fresh loaf of bread, “she has never done this before,” mother said warmhearted, “usually she buys yummy quarter candy pops instead.” Her itty bitty toes dipped in shallow waters off the dock, innocent as the mother Mallard was nurturing her young, her mother said, “oh honey, don’t take off your socks!” But lil’ Penny could be a sassy pants with her tongue. All of a sudden her eyes opened wide and to her surprise, she saw the mommy dabbling duck swimming right to her, five little ducklings were floating right before her eyes! Oh boy, how Penny loved watching them as the water stirs. She opened the bag of bread to feed her new feathered friends, tossing piece by piece into the quiet waters of natural wonder, to give the ducks a full belly is what she fully did intend, mother said, “I was like her, chasing birds when I was younger”. Penny had just walked down to the town market, saved up all her money to buy a fresh loaf of bread, her tiny hands couldn’t wait to get started, she was on the docks smiling as those ducklings she fed. Date Written: May 5, 2015

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Beyond The Beacon Light-Sentinel

Sentinel Quatrain Form - Poetry Contest Sponsor: Eve Roper Crashing quivers of ripples beyond the beacon light, a watchtower flooding with a million waves, water blown about like shadows in the night, clouds cause combustion as the oxygen it saves. Sign post hidden behind the main surges, streams of unguarded safety like a typhoon, the cyclone warps and bends as it merges, with the tempest curving into a monsoon. The watchmen scatter with apprehension, the sentinel remains an unsafe compartment, the seamark propels and turns causing trepidation, a billow of nature smashing the marine department. ~Date Written: April 6, 2016~

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

The Tin Bath Childhood Memory

..~~Childhood Memory~~.. None of us could swim, from the river we were banned Not allowed near the water without an adult holding a hand When the adults were busy we went to play Of course to the river our thoughts oft did stray. A tin bath we found much to our delight It would make a good boat so try it we might. We were not allowed swimsuits as none of us could swim So it was down to our birthday suits then we jumped in. We took it in turns to sail in the bath We didn’t think then of our parent’s fears or wrath My brother decided a new game to play Who could capsize the bath best - and still get away? What fun playing in the hours of illicit gaming. Capsizing and spitting out water with no complaining. All went well until I tipped the bath near the drinking tree root They sucked up and grabbed the bath for a hoot. I turned the bath over and fell from inside The tree roots clawed at me from the surface trying to hide The fingers of the tree reached for me, holding and pinning me tight The air from my lungs all gone - I never thought I would see the light. A gasp as air rushed in, I could breath, I could see And there were my friends and siblings all clapping at me I had put on a good "act" of drowning they said I had not the heart to tell them I thought I was dead. We rubbed ourselves down with our clothes and dressed quick All crossing our hearts, we would never tell our trick I remember so well the dark grasping water back then I learnt to swim quick before I went there again.

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |


What drapes these aqua wavelets’ sultry trail Along curled bends, creamy foams lift and rise? Where toes and gulls splash fountains like a sail, Paddling on rock ledges with gargled sighs Dewdrops gloss salty brine through chromed rays To warm the heart dancing with crystal flights, As grains of ivory sand hurl tangy sprays A dream-like scene taken from mermaid rites Dolphins in frolic swivel hips on display Cavorting with sunny air like splashed reel, To play games , a water matinee One, two rides on tides’ Ferris wheel Lapping through buoyed floats with coral refrains This my seashore adorns my wild private roam, Keeping life’s odes, our tunes of summer remains On bed of skin tan, she becomes my home. Summer Contest of Debbie G by nette onclaud

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

She was Returned

It has been many years since his daughter was lost
If he could bring her back he would at all costs
Ever since that day he has wandered and roamed
Turned his back on his family and their loving home

His life on the road left him disheveled and broke
When he thinks back to the past it leaves him in choke
Another day on his lonesome travels
A stranger he meets and their discussions unravel

This old man he has met all mysterious and dark
Told him of times going back as far as the Ark
Tales of the Templar's and Merlin the Magician
After hearing the mans story he began to begin

       "I lost my daughter a number of years ago
        She drowned whilst on holiday under a still water flow
        I couldn't comprehend the loss of her life
        The pressure of living, I left my home and my wife"

   "What would you do if your girl could be returned
    Have you ever wondered if fate could be unearned
    If this was possible, would you offer your life
    For your daughter to return to her mother your wife"

   "Remember, many years have passed her death by
    For her past to be relived, there is a reply
    Knights of the ages will descend from their dark
    They will then strike you down, as you begin your embark"
       "My life I have not lived for many a year
        For me to lose mine, I gladly volunteer
        I will die happy for all eternity
        Knowing my daughter will grow old, as it should be"

The old man chants a script of the past
Of an ancient time when fate was cast
The power of they to be able to reverse
To balance their return, they have to reimburse

   "Midnight skies will turn to purple cobalt blues
    Six Templar Knights will stand and surround you
    At your request they will strike you down
    On the sixth stroke, you will face your death gown"

   "A light will appear of which you'll travel through
    But before you do, a young girl runs to you
    Your daughter, in pink and red will run from the light
    She'll run through your soul, as your sleep starts tonight"

The old mysterious man continues on his way
As he passes a house on a hot Summers day
In the garden there sits, a daughter and mother
Discussing the loss of her father, as they begin to recover

She tells of the day whilst on holiday years ago
My husband your father, lost under a still water flow
As we comprehend the loss of his life
Leaving behind his daughter and wife


Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quatrain |

Niagara Falls

Cascading water that never seems to end
Going over the falls ever single day
The roaring of the water crashing down
A torrent that no one can stay

It draws a crowd of people far and wide
Who come to see its awesome view
Some have even tempted fate in ways
That one should really not attempt to do

A few have won a battle with the falls
Gaining fame and fortune from the duel
Many others have come because
The wish to celebrate a life with two

From honeymoons to wars daredevils to disasters
This place where heaven and earth seem to meet
Has captivated both one and all I'd say
Someday I hope to see this place so sweet

Copyright © Charles Reese | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain |

To tea or not to tea 'answered'

To tea or not to tea 'answered'

The ultimate taste in tea,
as it should always be.
There is tea and there is the perfect cup,
make perfect tea? Yes, for all to sup.

Right! Now we can start,
making perfect tea to warm your heart.
Warm your cup and your kettle boil,
no tea-bag yet or you will despoil.

Sugar in your cup to begin,
aye! Sugar or what-ever is your sin.
Next boiling water you may add,
still no tea yet, not one wee tad.

Stir your sugar until dissolved,
your perfect cup is nearly solved.
Now! Only now place your tea-bag,
let it sit there, let it lag.

Leave thirty seconds then jiggle your string,
Straight up and down, no wiggling.
It's up to you how many dumps you do,
the more dumps and the flavor will accrue.

Warm cup, boiling water equals 82 degrees,
The flavor will always be, just the Bee's knees.
Never pour boiling water on any tea-bag,
'cos the flavor will be just blidy, blidy sad.

Now taste your tea minus the 'tannin' shock,
You'll notice the difference, like cheese from chalk.
Many thousand cups of tea I have drank,
Use this recipe and you'll have me to thank.

The Auld Yin.

Copyright © Alex Gardiner | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

FEAR of Sharks

When my kids were small and for several years We rented a beach house on the Gulf coast Where the sand was white and the water clear And the sunshine would feel as warm as toast Both Bruce and Mary Ann would join us there In those days, we had the beach to ourselves A week of fun without a single care Fish, swim and see sand castles built by elves Just clear water from shore to the sand bar It turns to a dark blue where it gets deep This day, Bruce and I were out pretty far Lying on air mattresses half asleep Some people on shore, strolling up the beach We both heard them when they started to yell They were screaming Shark! Shark! The sharks out there! Scared shitless, started paddling like hell Bruce is a tall guy, about six foot two While at my best, I stand five foot seven With those long arms of his, his mattress flew Way behind, I was praying to heaven Then it happened, I fell off the mattress Legs hanging down and floundering around Looking more like shark bait, increased the stress Fear was eminence; then my feet hit the ground Waded to shore, Bruce walked over to me “Take a look over there, was do you see?” No sharks, just a few porpoise swimming free Yet, out there, FEAR was as great as can be

Copyright © Charles Sides | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain |

Shallow Water

Waterfall seems to be the major sight Perfect view from where I stand over here Water is a teal blue, so beautiful And there is a white foam as not to scare Within the water are small fish around There are some great red ones and orange ones They flutter, not caring that you are there It makes me want to live here, it beckons The water is cool but not quite so cold Allowing me to just get in barefoot It flows nicely after the waterfall The sound is soothing, and is underfoot Being out with nature just feels so good A great beauty that I will always keep The colors of the stone is surely grey But other colors infuse during sleep
Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2013