Sestina Girl Poems | Sestina Poems About Girl

These Sestina Girl poems are examples of Sestina poems about Girl. These are the best examples of Sestina Girl poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sestina | |

Fly



Standing on a tower, more than three hundred feet
She was watching a movie of her life,
in her head, as tears fall, and she tries to smile
She spread her arms like wings
Tears still falling, but she wants to fly
She closes her eyes, and held her head
high

Should have known better, her expectations too high
She's someone with two legs but can't stand on her feet
She may have been breathing, but she did not have life
She's undead blend with living, greet them with a fake smile.
And at night when she breaks, she would grasp for her wings
She forgot she was human, and therefore cannot fly.

How she wanted to fly!
More than thousand feet high
Never walk on her feet
And explore her whole life
Maybe then she could smile
She would look for those wings

She'd been hoping for wings
For she wanted to fly
She wanted to be happy, like she's on sugar high
Like someone lift her up, and swept her off of her feet
How she long for it! She wanted that her whole life
She just wanted to be happy, she just wanted to smile. 

But it takes all her strength, just to muster one smile
For all that's left was a set of broken wings
Never better than angels, even worse than a fly.
Always falls at the bottom, and no chance to get high
Always stuck on the ground, with her two broken feet
She was tired of these things, she was tired of this life

There was no one out there who cares for her life
But she tried to be strong, while she wear a fake smile
She cried out for help, but they pulled out her wings
Screaming "Girl, you are human, and therefore cannot fly!"
She know it herself, but is it bad to aim high?
"I will show them," she says, as she ran on her feet

Life, now hanging on a tower, more than three hundred feet
She wears a real smile while she stood way up high
Spread her arms just like wings, took off--- and fly.

Copyright © Julie Anne | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sestina | |

To Find The Girl That I'd Love Best

To find the girl that I’d love best (A Sestina, 19 May 2014).

I thought to set upon a quest;
One that would put me to the test
So I left my cold and empty nest
And proceeded with vigor and zest
To find the girl that I’d love best.
Thus I left my castle in the west.

So proceeding from the west,
I set upon the aforementioned quest
To find the girl that I’d love best.
The trek was long, surely a true test,
That sometimes wore out my youthful zest
And made me regret my empty nest.

I did not turn back to my empty nest,
That was now far distant in the west,
Rather took heart to recover my zest
And with renewed hope continued my quest
Resolving to finally beat the test
To find the girl that I’d love best.

At a fork I chose the road that I thought best
Would lead to my fairest lady’s nest
But I was deceived by this beguiled test
And turned back around towards the west
To retrace my old footsteps of my quest
And returned to the fork with much less zest.

On the other road moving with less zest
I by chance met the girl that I’d love best.
She saw that I was on some kind of quest
And offered me sustenance within her nest
I desired to take her to my home in the west
And realized wooing her would be my final test

So preparing for this final test,
I pursued the charming girl with zest.
She consented to come with me to the west,
Therefore I won the one that I’d love best.
Thus I took her home back to my nest
And finally fulfilled my loving quest .

It never really was for me a test to tolerate the girl that I loved  best.
So I cherished her with love and zest; because she took the emptiness from my  nest.
Thus I never again set foot out from the west for another lengthy silly quest.

Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sestina | |

Fly - Revised Edition

Standing on a tower, more than three hundred feet
As she watched a movie of her life
The rain falls, and she smiled a sad smile
She spread her arms like wings
Tears still falling, but she wanted to fly
Closing her eyes, she lift her head high

Stakes are too high
Cannot stand on her feet
Breathing, but with no life
She's undead with fake smile
And at night when she breaks, she would grasp for her wings
She forgot she was human, she forgot she can't fly

How she wanted to fly!
More than thousand feet high
Never walk on her feet
And explore her whole life
Maybe then she could smile
She would look for those wings

She'd been hoping for wings
For she wanted to fly
Yearning for sugar high
Be swept off of her feet
Oh, she longed for that life
Where she can freely smile

But it's hard just to smile
Left with dull broken wings
Even worse than a fly
And no chance to get high
With her two broken feet
Can't escape in this life.

No one cares for her life
Every day's a fake smile
And they pulled out her wings
Screaming "Girl, you can't fly!"
She let out a sigh, "Is it bad to aim high?"
"I will show them," she says, as she ran on her feet

Life, now hanging, more than three hundred feet
She wears a real smile while she stood way up high
Spread her arms just like wings, took off--and fly.








Copyright © Julie Anne | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sestina | |

The Mask of Truth

She played with pride and vanity in the mirror
with crimson rouge she painted a mask.
No tear would fall, for she forsook weeping,
because in her mind her beauty was the truth,
whereas the lie remained unending
but she believed a pretty face is always beautiful.

If a pretty face is always beautiful
then surely in soft tongue speaks the mirror
Whose hollow compliments are ever unending.
Now it is never safe to take off that mask
So the mask morphs into the truth?
No wonder you can hear the quiet weeping.

She cannot bear the sight of weeping
since an ugly cry ruins the beautiful
and she can never accept the ugly truth
so quickly she must hide from her foe, the Mirror.
What if torn from her face is the mask?
She fears the insults will be unending.

If the insults are truly unending 
it is the beginning of a lifetime of perpetual weeping
fate, not glue, has sealed her face to the mask.
At least her prison is beautiful,
or so says the honest mirror
since the damnable thing supposedly reflects truth.

How dare that vile thing speak the truth!
The pain caused has been unending,
if she shatters the mirror
Will it stop her weeping?
No, she was cursed to be beautiful
by her smotherer, the Mask.

Chokes her slowly does the Mask.
A noose is only equal to the truth
and a blue face is never beautiful
And now the threat of death is never unending.
How can she mourn with weeping?
Since she put her own disguise in the mirror.

She could not bear the mirror's sad truths
and her mask's deceptions were unending 
so weeping became her friend and she pretends that lies are beautiful.
By: Chelsea P. Stone

Copyright © Chelsea P. Stone | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sestina | |

Moonlight Adventure

The beautiful day begins in the house.
At the end of it, all that’s left of it is the moon,
Shimmering in all the night’s light.
A door to another world opens.
The only movement is a page turning in a book. 
Suddenly, without notice, an inconceivable object drops.
	
The thing jumps and twirls and once again drops.
A person from another time, the future, enters the large house.
The man, pacing back and forward, finally sends away the hovering book.
He magically transports it to the glistening moon.
Something like a black hole, a portal inexplicably opens.
The book vanishes in a fading yellow light.

The visitor sees something bright, a room full of light.
And inside, a piece of paper from the hands of a child drops.
The door of the room slightly, quietly opens.
A child and her grandmother are drawing and inscrutable house.
In a circle and a beam of inconceivable beauty appears the moon.
On the page, like the hovering object, once again, is the sight of a book.

The child explains that she has, many times that year, read the book.
But her grandmother slowly shows the girl the true “light”.
Now, the girl understands that she was wrong, and now appears the moon!
It comes closer and closer, and then, like a shooting star, down it drops.
The planet has gone down from the sky to have a conversation in the house.
The moon elegantly flies in, as large as an elephant, and its mouth opens.

And now all of the people come close together and a road opens.
The grandmother and child are guided by a rather large book.
In time, the home disappears; they have left the house.
The book vanishes, and all that leads them is a guiding light.
The key to a room, calmly, as if carried by the wind, drops.
“Come in and let’s have a talk,” says not a person, but a face in white, the moon.

The grandmother is surprised, for she is seeing the real, live moon.
A beautiful and long conversation through all the night opens.
Then as dawn arrives, blood-red, the tone of their voices drops.
Grandmother and child come out of the wonderful book.
Outside it is day, a new beginning, another lively light.
They walk o’er their field and talk till’ they reach the house.

In the morning, the otherworldly man leaves the house.
Also, he disappears in a now magnificent golden light.
That is the end; there are no more pages in this book.

Copyright © Alan Grinberg | Year Posted 2005