Quatrain Success Poems | Quatrain Poems About Success

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Details | Quatrain |

Another Day

A torch carried on forever, indeed,
for the aggressive rhymer in me,
is alive again, unshackled and freed,
rising to challenge another day, I see.

As I found myself lost deep in Tolkien,
with epic Star Wars, never ending,
surrounded in a geek paradise, serene,
optical illusions before me, suspending.

Life's songs on guitar strings strummed,
an epiphany unlike they've ever heard,
euphoric dreams in my visions hummed,
as I pen archaic word after archaic word.

Artistry is born only to be my brother,
encircled this star, a pentagram made,
my day is done, I have conquered another,
as the sun slowly brings down the shade.

A Word Collage For Chan Hurst

(Cyndi MacMillan's contest)

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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Both Sides for Me

The look of pity on the saleswoman's face said it all
my paint spattered clothing, however the jeans fit
just didn't have that panache, chic pizazz, tongue hanging
inspiration for desire a young woman out to have.

The car dealer took one look at me, led me to the far
corner of the lot, showed me the used hot rods
the beater four doors, the budget cutters like I'd rode
but I wanted glossy black, silver hood ornament, brand new.

Paint is supposed to sit on top of your nails, but underneath
is advantageous when compared to oil, to muck, to dirty guts
so I was a step on the ladder of the working man, 
I could even afford to buy hose, which I still don't wear.

There's something to be said for the over glasses, safety 
glasses look, white paper coat, something comical 
one supposes, but the purple overalls worn for skiing
which suddenly I could afford, made me my nephews joke.

At times I waited for a date who preferred the bar
called and said maybe later, because passion rumbled
between us when we kissed but I didn't want a flit,
disease, broken promise, I wanted to be embraced

Cozy now, body motion are promises and content
passion is beyond me, the bar on the patio in back
the hand I always hold a missing app that answers
more lonely than any mistaken wish that he'd be the one.

Stars, too, I climbed to them in my dream, climbed
the Space Needle and found my self with no safety net
I always avoided those climbs the dreams more nightmare
even though I do what I am told, to reach, to soar.

Sometimes now I wear black on gold dresses which fit
to the nth inch, so I can barely sit, hold champagne
to watch golden bubbles float against the elegant
white linen against starry night event, that's rich, success.

Dump it gladly for a romp on the beach, the missing
something like threads through a woven maze,
like an angel's hope. When I dump it all and seek
there's grace lying on the shores between the rocks

a pooled place where deer come to lick minerals,
boulders come unglued and sail down river
and think, maybe I could do that. Maybe I could
unglue all the expectations and rearrange the world.

Copyright © Sheri Fresonke Harper | Year Posted 2014

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Perseverance is surely the name of the game With every challenge before you It applies to the highest mountains you climb Ignoring distractions is the clue Roadblocks are there to test your patience The glitter of gold clouds your eyes Keep your nose to the proverbial grindstone Much success will be yours by and by I certainly haven't achieved all my goals But employing this theory through the years Has enabled me to increase the likelihood Of avoiding many heartaches and tears Working hard with the goal of cooperation Bendability when shown a new path You'll ultimately be placed in a higher standing Great success will be yours at last In closing please remember this friendly advice To assist you in climbing life's tree Compassion and patience are all important But perseverance is surely the key © Jack Ellison 2013

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013

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Show them what they want to see,

Tell them what they want to hear,

The truth is what we claim to breathe,

When none can shoulder what we need.

Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2016

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A Prayer of a Footballer

O Lord! Thou art my Coach
I shall never be defeated
 Strengthen me for this game
As I humble call on your name 

Invigorate my heart, mind and body
When I fall, pick me up and energize me
Grant me the tenacity to win every ball
And courage to stand whatever befall

Yea, though my opponents frighten me
Like roaring Lions out of their den
My great Coach always inspires me
Your pep talk! Your word! Uplifts me

Though fear and despair bites me
Like venomous snakes out of the shadow
My Lord is with me everywhere I go
You prepare a strategy to defeat my foe

When the final whistle is blown
And the team heads to the dressing room
May my Lord, the great Coach when He calls my name
Say “Gideon! You played like a Lion, you played the game” 

And surely victory, glory and goodness 
Will hunt me all the days of my life
And I shall look up to my Coach forever
Walking with me now and ever!

The Poet Preacher © 2014

Ps 18:39 My Coach has fortified me with strength [energy, power, strategy, capability] for the battle [big game, contest, combat]: He has subdued [vanquished, beaten, massacred, overpowered] my opponents.

Copyright © Gideon Foli | Year Posted 2014

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Success without Failure, Isn't Success

As I sat feeling lost and defeated
Conversing with an old friend
He offered words of encouragement
And this is how he began

My dear, life is far from simple
And it's more difficult the higher you go
For the more you learn, attempt, and obtain
The more hatred people will show

Always give yourself a chance
Don't give up before you begin
It may seem to be a feat in the beginning
But it'll be worth it in the end

Sure, sometimes you will face struggle
And yes, sometimes you'll even fail
However, it's those that stumble and continue on
That will conquer and prevail

Still, once you've reached the top
You're bound to fall and retreat
Yet, the key to obtaining success
It to get back on your feet

So give it an extra effort
Don't hesitate or refrain
Because without some type of loss
There will never be any gain

Copyright © Ashley Smith | Year Posted 2009

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Self Discipline

What has to be done must be done
Lazing around just will not pay
Grab hold of yourself and move on
Do what you have to do today

Despite the mood you may be in
Know time and tide wait for no one
Get busy, start the ball rolling
If not, you will be overrun

Hold on and sustain the effort
Though you may not feel to do so
Stand firmly for no matter what
Be assured success will follow

Copyright © john beharry | Year Posted 2016

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Determination and Grit

I slipped on a teardrop and landed upright, 
With no tigers or werewolves to scare me, 
In the long silent night so salient and tight, 
Where there was no hunger and travesty.

Desiderata mounted as a goat passions one, 
Front legs up, leaning upon his spritely girl;
Fuel of life, oh twig of gentleness unsprung, 
Never do you appear contingent on a twirl. 

Winds howled on and on under supervision, 
It seemed as if they were tall and even valid; 
Rains hit hard my fragile frame of collision, 
For nothing and nonchalance did they pallid. 

Hiding my face with a wooden, olive scarf, 
And umbrella to enhance my laugh stout, 
I braced the chill that bade me ill and dwarf, 
To retake the lost love that i could not gout. 

Vigour of kings, my heart leapt for plenty, 
Directivity vitalised my lionising soft breath,
Towards my rock of goodness, my morality, 
And I landed stealthily in my own free seth. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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Daylight Burning

One day while wan’dring far afield 
I heard a tortoise shriek 
“Oh, curse this shell, infernal cell…
I haven’t got all week!”

I dropped down low, I snuck up slow 
then spied him through the brush
and though he scarcely moved an inch
he wailed, “I’m in a rush!”

The world a-turning; daylight burning
the angry tortoise crept.
I asked him what the matter was
and at my voice he leapt.

He ducked his head and pulled his legs
and huddled in his shell.
I laid down in the prairie grass
and waited out the spell.

“I’ve naught but time.”  Said I to he,
“There’s no need for your worry.
Besides, I know I heard you say
that you were in a hurry.”

Slowly…just as turtles do
He showed one of his eyes.
Then slower yet, his head appeared
but he refused to rise.

“What do you want?” He asked of me,
“You’ll make me later still!
I need to get across this field
and over yonder hill.”

“The hare’s asleep o’er in the sage
he thinks he’s got me beat.
So, there he naps, but joke’s on him…
I’m lightning on my feet!”

“Except my shell keeps getting caught
it’s snagged in all these flowers.
Unholy pack, upon my back
I’m wasting precious hours!”

With that he threw his tortoise fists
and did a little spin.
He almost got me on the nose
then gave a tortoise grin.

The flowers had all lost their grip,
his twirl set him free.
But the thing that happened next
was magical to see.

He gave me a slow tortoise wink
then went off like a gun.
I’ve never seen a beast of field
that he could not outrun.

I sat up in the meadow grass
and gave my head a shake.
A few feet off, I saw some ears,
the hare was now awake.

Although, that came as no surprise
I only can assume…
that he’d awoken at the launch 
which made a sonic boom.

I dropped down low, I snuck up slow
then spied him through the brush.
And as he rubbed his sleepy eyes
the tears began to gush.

The world a-turning; daylight burning
the rabbit had just slept.
I asked him what the matter was
and at my voice he wept.

Entry for Burning Daylight
Sponsored by John lawless

Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015

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Response to Potpourri

		Those who succeed have skills to lead
		the ones whose kudos have not come.
		True mentors know success's glow
		is most powerful when it's shared.

for contest "Response to Potpourri"

January 18, 2016

#1: "The stars are not afraid to appear like fireflies."

Copyright © Janice Canerdy | Year Posted 2016

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I Wish I Were Nicolas Cage

Well, he's goofy and gangly and thin up on top
And his real last name once began with a "Cop"
But I don't give a hoot about all of that
'Cause his box office draw's made his wallet grow fat.

If you listen quite closely to how this bloke talks
And you then watch how oddly he lists when he walks
Why, you'd think to yourself he'd be good as a clown
But I'm not trying here to just put the man down.

He's admitted that comics were where he got "Cage"
And his movies have made that fake name all the rage.
I've not kept a close count on how many there are,
But I tell you, my brothers, his fame extends far.

See, he's got this charisma that can't be denied
Plus a talent for acting that's as high as it's wide.
And he likes to take risks, gotta respect him for that,
Using methods that sometimes will end up falling flat.

One is called, NOUVEAU SHAMANIC, a phrase all his own,
And, then, WESTERN KABUKI, at which you might groan.
So his style's informed by the books that he reads
And he'll work it to death, or until it just bleeds.

It's a high wire act but with no safety net;
His unwavering panache makes me jealous, you bet.
Though I've tried my damned best to perform like this jock
On the set I'm as lame as a bump on a rock.

See, I've wanted to act since I was in 5th Grade
But allowed time to pass, maybe one whole decade
Before trodding the boards once again on the stage
So far back in the days when there was no Nick Cage.

I was hamming it up before Nick changed his name
Unsuccessfully striving to get in the game.
But to date Central Casting is as far as I've gone;
About all I've done there is to camp out on their lawn.

So I've hatched me a plan, will you please hear me out?
Take the shillings you're saving for Nick's latest flick
And, instead of enriching that overgrown lout
Send them here to yours truly, and best make it quick.

Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015

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The weeping of my unrealized dreams I hear
Coming from the deep well, of unforgiving time

Asking me, their aspirations to betray no more

But give them a chance for a victory sublime!

© Demetrios Trifiatis
   28 December 2015 

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2015

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A LEGACY SPAN Daily my precious gift my one and only life A life which someday may run old and dry Everytime it's prick with knife and strife A continuous battle flaming how or why A day to be with family then bond A whole day sharing time with friends A day to roam, reminisce the land A Church day to praise and transcend Sometimes, I will meet and kiss rainfall However, I shall stand ~ try understand Over heartaches and a jar painful I wear my gear and take full command Each Day, I will first stir the urge To anyone needing some time I will share opting not to splurge To love and care my finest rhyme A passing day will forever gone My life sparks with Master plan All things that's done and undone My dusts dispels a legacy span _____________________________________________ (c) olive_eloisa 3:44pm January 12, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2014

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The Unwavering Sentinel

The beam amidst the raging storm Like a glum buffalo of fierceness The seemingly engulfing clouds The furious and pounding waves As if a treacherous leviathan Ever menacing yet perilous Lo and behold, the sentinel Stand still amidst the dicey phase The beam remained unwavering Static and prompt to repress Non-submissive yet resistance Such is a sentinel of vastness
Date written 04/10/16 An entry to "Sentinel" Quatrain Poetry Contest 4th placer An entry for Laura Loo's contest "Any Poem Written in April 2016"

Copyright © Moon Flower | Year Posted 2016

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Rise above it

With sort of papers bend
I can see it THE END
Though trembling unseen
Like forgot everything it seems

Heart and pen are at sync
Trying to overcome those obstacles
Struggling that horrible fight
As if fear had hold me tight

It's all broken ,there is rage
And confine in tag of failure cage
Yeah I am lost in maze 
Fallen with every page

Even life is difficult to cope
But I won't lose it THAT HOPE
I'll aim straight for my success
Failing won't stop me from rising above

I will try try until I succeed
Won't let this failure breed
I 'll root it our like a weed 
Then blossom with efforts in new seed

A sheet of paper can't decide my future after all
One never becomes failure with one fall
Summoning knowledge and peace
That's my very aim for top to cease

I shall rise above it,I will rise above it

12 June 2016 

Copyright © LEKHIKA DUGTAL | Year Posted 2016

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So few needs that humans have
that some say bread and water.
Forgetting clothes and shelter
to leave you cold or hotter.

Who will make their list up
of what it takes to live?
and who will cross it off
should they be one to give?

Some will call them cheapskates,
skinflints, even misers.
Those who would pass judgement:
ignorant and chastisers.

So share yourself with others,
that rich may know the poor.
and both will be the wiser
forsaking all the boor.

Then think of those with nothing,
to know their many needs.
Remembering food and water
is the least of what they heed.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2015

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Pop Can Sally

Pop can Sally stock my pop.
Push the new stuff back!
Bring the old stuff to the front
and space them just a crack.

Sell me one to quench my thirst
but make me get my own.
Reaching further to the back
where cooler ones are known.

Take my change from out of pocket.
Thanks for this cold pop.
Refreshing when I pull it's tab
and help to blow it's top.

Guzzling down what rushes out
and soon to quench my thirst.
Swallowing it quickly now;
allowing it to burst.

Empty now a once full can.
Thirsty nevermore.
Thanks to Sally and her pop.
The Pop Can Sally Store.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod | Year Posted 2013

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Trees for erosion

I moved onto the farm when I was eleven, 
To the farm eroded of trees.
I’d stand on the hill in the middle of summer, 
Unshaded in a blistering breeze.

Then the winter shook hands and my work it began, 
Iron barrow, saplings, and a spade.
I planted, I nurtured, hundreds of trees, 
Before I realised I’d been betrayed.

It took a plague of rabbits a week to destroy,
Every tree in my little plantation.
So I replanted each tree, surrounded with plastic, 
In a war of land occupation.

Then the sheep we had, broke through a fence,
And devoured every little one.
Damn, new strategy, wire mesh for each,
The regrowth had, now, just begun.

Then a drought, “you’re kidding” every tree turned to dust,
Every tree I’d planted with care.
The drought broke when I was fifteen, so I replanted the hill,
Replanted on a wing and a prayer.

Now, thirty years since, you can’t see the hill anymore, 
It’s blanketed by leaves on the trees.
You can now stand on the hill in the middle of summer, 
Shaded with a cool, calm, comfortable breeze.

Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2016

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I used to harbor lofty dreams 
Of winning wealth and fame.
I vainly dreamed about a time
When the world would know my name.

But time and those rejection slips
Have tempered my wild dreams.
The ceaseless grind of passing years
Has mellowed me, it seems.

So now I breathe, create, and write
Simply because I must.
No longer do I crave those things
For which I used to lust.

Copyright © William Robinson | Year Posted 2006

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Writing's Way Worser Than Working

Oh, I'm tired of bending my back for a buck;
See, it comes out of falling so far on my luck
That I now have to work with some tools and a truck
And a cynic might say that my plight's gotta suck.

Now, I tried putting Parker to paper, but then
A whole lotta nuthin' resulted, so when
The larder was empty at a quarter to Ten
I ran to a place that was looking for men.

They gave me a job scrubbing decks on a ship
And told me be sure and show up with my slip.
So, straight as a laser I sped to the boat
And made enough dough so's to keep me afloat.

In an ideal world I could sell my hack rhymes;
For the nonce, sad to say, I must roll with the times.
For as much as I'd like to go scribbling out verse
I'll be much better fed if I've coins in me purse.

Copyright © Roderick Molasar | Year Posted 2015

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I went for a morning stroll 
There were also other walkers in the park
who came for walk for a better health control
Little earlier the Sun had drove away the dark

Glittering was the early morning Sunlight
Taking sunbath in a corner was a cat
I too was walking without any specific thought
The cat hissed at me, as if I was to combat

I just ignored him and pursued my path
Now few crows circled cawing around the cat
I could see the cat chasing a prey near the footpath
Prey jumped into a small bush, to escape from the threat

Prey was a well grown baby pigeon
I was drawn to interfere in this chase
When I tried to catch, he flied little thereon
I caught him but the cat become unease

To escape from crows,I put pigeon into my small cloth bag
I walked away to save this baby towards few women
Shown this beautiful pigeon baby, with a ‘plea to save tag’
God came in the form of a maid servant who was keen

She agreed to rear him in addition to the lovebirds in her home
and to free him when he is fully grown
Now pigeon began a new life, as threat was overcome
I too felt relieved as if a seed is now sown

But my heart pained as I earned the wrath of the cat
as I deprived him of his morning feed
I got relieved only next day when same cat posed as if he forgot!
With each such deed, God is fulfilling every such need!!

Copyrights reserved

Copyright © V.MUTHU MANICKAM | Year Posted 2017

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A Nibble

They started at the break of day
For happy day of fun.
Each hoped to catch a mess of fish
Before the day was done.

They hurried to remembered spot
Where they'd had past success,
To cast their bait from a high wall,
With some skill, more or less.

These siblings wanted to surprise
Their unsuspecting mom.
The sweet, young miss was Eloise,       (Ell-o-wise)
Her brothers Jack and Tom.

At first the fish refused to bite,
But these three persevered.
And each went home with their fair share
Before sun disappeared.

For Edmund Blair Leighton contest

Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013

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Andrew Small

Andy is a wheelchair racer from Stockport, 
Born a 1993 kid on the 6th day of January, 
Who has serious nerve damage to report, 
Which affects him neurologically, physically. 

He went to Brine Leas School in Nantwich, 
Which sits in Cheshire in good old England,  
He studied at S Cheshire College to hitch, 
But took to athletes after the London hand. 

In 2014 he competed in the IPC Grand Prix, 
In Switzerland, sprint and middle distance, 
But in Rio he secured a bronze very elegantly, 
For the 100m, a PB in the short time of 17.96.

Along with two of his team mates and fellows, 
Dan Bramall and Carly Tait, Andy received, 
A grant to buy a new wheelchair - perfectos, 
From the Manchester Airport fund, relieved. 

Richard Hoskins, head coach in Andy’s club, 
Said “The purchase of the racing wheelchair 
enabled…members to train intensely [hub], 
…in the lead up to various competitions,” [fare].

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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Kare Adenegan

Kare Adenegan

I love the city of Coventry ‘cos it’s disability friendly, 
Since it houses Great Britain’s national disabled college, 
As Hereward resides there with insight, policies bendy, 
Towards its students who mainstream don’t admonish. 

Kare who was only 15 at Rio comes from Coventry, 
She schools at Bablake and has Cerebral Palsy true, 
And, being excluded from the school sports gentry, 
After the London Paras decided that sports she’d do.  

So she joined one of the many wheelchair academies, 
Which vibrate in Coventry and soon attended meets, 
Where she could compete with national dungarees,
As a T34 sprinter to cheer the crowds off their seats. 

Grand Prix final in London 2015, and she pushed hard, 
Revolved those rubber tyres faster than ever she could, 
And, unbelievably, she beat flat Hannah Crockroft bard, 
To become the first in seven years to lower that hood. 

Then in Doha 2015 IPC Worlds she steamed victorious,
When she won bronze in both the 400 and in the 800m,
And then in Rio 2016 she won one silver medal glorious, 
Also two bronze, stealing the sprints for the UK by gaiters. 

Indeed, both Hurricane Hannah and Kare Adenegan, 
Come from Coventry because Hannah’s moved there
To study media at Coventry University. Respect began, 
In the war recovery effort: for the disabled they’d care. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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pirated words

I stole this poem
with cutlass and eyes
words lusted and trusted 
so I took of this prize

it's chests of golden
it's flashing jeweled verbs
and left letters worthless
to be picked by the birds

sailing 'cross bleached pages
under azure blue skies
I stole of my own life
and took what implies

existence on dangerous sees
to the edge of the earth and
boarded keyboard south of the keys
taking every word of worth

pillaging the hapless literati
demanding chains and trinkets
relieving authors boasting haughty
of bootied lines me think it's

better to hold to bright sun 
to see glint in the daylight
some pirated pentameter outdone
without sword of pen to fight

so hang me dashed by a yardarm
an' tell lies of me glories
whilst takin' maidens in arm
regaling wild legended stories

but, me matey, ye'd better beware
of plagiarists fast on your tale
'cross oceans of notions they dare
pirate your own words to unveil

to their own laughing lasses and crew
drinking and toasting remembrance of you
what's a pirating plagiarist to do?
- but pirate a poem out of the blue

aaarrgh matey - 
        I'll be takin' them lines now...

© Goode Guy 2012-12-13

Copyright © Goode Guy | Year Posted 2013

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Gaz Choudhry

Gaz is a class 4.0 wheelchair basketball player,  
He saw a roadshow when he was almost a teen, 
From the UK Wheelchair Basketball Association, 
Having become an amputee aged ten and keen. 

He competed as a young teen, represented GB, 
He’s originally from Pakistan but moved to Ealing, 
And he won two golds and one silver immediately,  
And so was chosen for the team for turkey, beaming. 

In Beijing he was a reserve but now lived in Italy, 
To play for their Porto Torres agile wheelchair team, 
And in 2010 at the World Basketball Championship, 
In Birmingham, his team placed 5th, cool and mean.

In 2011 Gaz went to the European Championships, 
Which were in Nazareth, that renown town in Israel,
And here the GB team won gold to boast in tone, 
So that Gaz is now going to Rio, a victory to nail.  

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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Nathan Macqueen

Nathan played pro-rugby for the Glasgow Warriors, 
Until he was seventeen when he had a motorbike crash, 
Which broke thirty bones in has body, medical superiors,
Said he may die, but he battled and is paralysed brash. 

He took up wheelchair basketball and played successfully, 
For the Lothian Phoenix club, and now he daily practices, 
Archery at Edinburgh Uni in their sporting facility, hopefully, 
To win at Rio, because he’s got credentials and analysis. 

He took home a silver medal at the games in Fazza, Dubai, 
At the International Para Championship, and then following, 
He achieved second place, and silver, also in 2016, bligh,
At the European Para Championship in France, his aiming.

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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Ben Rowlings

Big Ben trains hard in the gym, 
To prepare for his athletics games, 
And, training in Coventry, hymn, 
There’s a local interest in games. 

“I’ve been able to train 2 to 3 times
a day, 6 days a week, I get the miles
in on the track and do the big [mines],
weights, in the gym. [I’m all smiles].

I’m making sure my body’s in the best 
way possible leading into…competition 
whether it’s the [Euro Champ’s chest],
the Paralympics, or just [in meet action].” 

Ben wheelchair races in class T34,
And in 2015 broke the British record,
For the 100, 200, 400 and 800m door,
Born with CP, suffocated by his cord.  

In his teens he took up swimming, 
But found he had a chlorine allergy, 
So he went into wheelchair racing, 
After a British Athletics talent day. 

The Euros in Swansea took place,
In 2014, and Ben collected a bronze, 
For the 800m which he did deftly ace, 
In a time of 1 min 56 + 11 milliseconds. 
Next came another Euro, Grosseto,
Two years later. Ben scored thrice,
In the 100, 400 and 800m gusto,
To win bronzes for his thrown dice.

He did participate in the Rio Games, 
Saying: “Just being able to call
yourself a Paralympian and, [dames], 
being able to be in the Village [tall] 

and rub shoulders with some
of the best athletes - that is
something that drives me [on] 
everyday.” Coventry’s top biz. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

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Gordon Reid

Gordon, or Gio, is a wheelchair tennis player, 
And comes from Helensburgh in Scotland, 
He won the very first Wimbledon this year, 
For the wheelchair men’s singles grandstand. 

Six weeks after leaving hospital with a chair, 
He won the B Division Singles in Glasgow
At the age of just fourteen, and then square,  
He became the National Champion Apollo. 

Gordon then turned 18 in September 2008,
The year he won at the Juniors in Tarbes,
Then he kept this title in 2009, then rate,
In Turkey 2010 Gordon had fourth agility.  

In 2015 he won the French and US Opens,
And then in 2016 he won both Wimbledon,
And also the French Open again, no tokens:
It was real, and everyone cheered Gordon!

He now lives in Alexandria, a very small town
In West Dumbartonshire: comes from a family
Of tennis players and began playing the mown, 
When he was six, Karen Ross is coach, history.

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |

Sam Ruddock

Sam made it into Rugby School from Bishop Wulstan, 
To study A-Level English, History and Economics, days, 
For entry into Loughborough University, a sportsman, 
Where he took International Relations about our ways. 

There he played American football amongst able-bodied, 
And was spotted by British Athletics for the Paralympics, 
So he competed in the 2012s in the T35 100m embodied,
But missed out on the final by only a few split seconds, 0.6.

Then in the 200 metres in 3 days he ran a PB of 28.75,
But he changed track to become a shot putter on field,
In the 2014 IPC European Championships he did strive,
Such that he’s in the Rio team and backs the CP wield.

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016