Best Quaintness Poems
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My Quaint Cottage
The quaintness of my cottage
Is idyllic in my sweet resting thoughts.
My miniature garden rarely noticed by one
Is garlanded with fenced shrubs and flowery visions.
My orange clustered tree
Showers } { its love
onto my } { cascade
of verses } { as I rest
against } { its sturdy
bark on } {a silent day
My green walled cottage is sewn intricately with ivy
Leaving an
Arched door
Open Fringed
With fresh roses
Attracting the
Honey suckles
Hanging in air
Fluttering
Their wings
For ## but # one ## sip
In ## my ##### garden
Of # b# l #o # o # m # s
FIRST
Balveen Cheema
October 24, 2015
Judged
Contest: Creative Layouts
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Categories:
quaintness, flower, house,
Form:
Concrete
The rugged bark of an old tree
with imperfection due to its cracks
is a wondrous thing of beauty
and it's the imperfection that attracts
We know that a star-shaped flower
does not make a perfect star
Yet it has a certain loveliness
that induces a sense of wonder
A hand-crafted ceramic bowl
because of its asymmetry
is a wonderful artefact
that is valued very highly
An old-time cobblestone street
has a unique charm and quaintness
due to its imprecise pattern
that gives it its loveliness
Perfection is not easy to attain
and even more difficult to sustain
Beauty lies in Imperfection
and they are a natural combination
Categories:
quaintness, beauty, flower, imagery, nature,
Form:
Quatrain
A stretch and yawn, upon the dawn, where golden sunlight warms
Venetian blinds, are wound with care, and opens up the morn
The early dew is drying now, and sun lies on the hills
The chill of night has disappeared, and everything is still
Two doves are strutting on the path, of cobblestone and sand
A clothesline strung across the yard, sails sheets against the wind
A quaintness of a cottage row, hangs on to yesterday
Where doves would sing a peaceful song, to welcome a new day
Inspired by a Painting... 9/1/14
Categories:
quaintness, art,
Form:
Ekphrasis
Stadacona
An ode to Quebec City
1
On the green bank of a mighty stream -
A lofty aerie - a fair city beam
With stately air a queen, she stands -
A gem - over these most forest lands.
An old city (first in Canada)
Formerly humble Stadacona.
2
Hardy Champlain, of proud heritage -
Geographer and scion of Brouage -
Envisioned her rocky shore
And armed with dreams, he did explore
Her woody crest - a verdant forest -
Aloft there on her virgin breast.
3
Her sons were gallant progenity -
Seeds of Brittany; roots of Normady -
Of France. The served with honor,
With bravery and staunchless valor.
All faithful, all trustful habitants,
Artisans, voyageurs and peasants.
4
Her daughter came with chaste dignity
Brave heart and robust vitality;
The cradle to rock, the flax to spin,
The hearth to brighten, the wild to win.
Must dutiful, most fruitful maidens!
Lights of home! Makers of edens!
5
Stalwart pioneers - hence from a rampart
Aery they went to conquer and to chart
Untold regions, where but stealthy feet
E’er dared the wilderness to defeat.
Trail blazers - hence to give name
To the unknown - faith the untame.
6
Here a new world and a new nation
Was conceived - a dauntless bastion
Tempered with faith and loyally blue -
Which kept the pledge, centuries three.
O gentle city! “Guard well thy crown
Of charm; thy quaintness and they renown.”
Envoi:
Royal “flour de lis” no longer remain
O’er citadel proud, yon wide domain;
But memories sacred of past heroes, sleep
On bosom tender ever fresh ever deep.
Written the 15th of May, 1947
by Wilfred J. Bouthillet
Categories:
quaintness, adventure, city, courage, devotion,
Form:
Ballade
By: Sashi Prabhu (zeauoxian), Written on 18th November 2012.
Loud dins of nihility whirls and twirls around,
Reverberating sharply in my churning mind,
Humming lowly & resonating strange they sound,
Filling my spaces with patterns and frequencies of all kind.
Vacuously locked into blunt spaces my eyes,
Are spiked with ***** scabbards of blankness…
Glimmering tear drops hold tenderness that never dries,
keep fondly trickling out from my eyes with quaintness.
My ear drums swell from within to capture,
Dull shrills of echoes from within me,
“Nothingness” they trap on the verge of their rupture,
Sounds from around me ascend to a higher degree.
My heart beats itself sore,
As “nothingness” it just can’t anymore bear,
Only love and peace can usher in some more,
Feelings of tranquility and life full of softness and care.
me and myself now for sure know,
That “nothingness” can fathoms away keep,
So reflection & solitude, will in my mind sow,
And “nothingness” within me will forever put to sleep.
Now
“Nothingness” have kept at bay,
now within have positivity filled in me,
do not care what they to me will say,
And live my life “nothingness” free.
Categories:
quaintness, introspection, life, me, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Advertising has us in it's wrappers
here's the bad stuff ~ here the clappers,
it seems the product needs the jabbers
like a potato chip ~ the grabber!
but for the quaintness of the blabbers
I could not focus ~ or react thus
now here's a cute phrase ~ DIPPLE DABBERS
they're not like "p r i n g l e s" ~
They're just "ADAPTERS"!
Note ~ Hi Mark Pringle (our poetic benefactor) Had to say something that could
separate the wimps from the "snappers!"
Categories:
quaintness, character, , cute,
Form:
Monorhyme
Follow the flame of quaint yesteryears.
Turn on your mind and look around the room.
Imagine tepees, dirt floor cabins
speaking history of honeysuckle blooms.
See the Lakota do their Ghost Dance
by the quaint fire of the moonlight.
See the hearth in the slave quarter,
where they sleep from their daily plight.
Sit beside the flame of quaint moments,
when innocence and laughter blessed their lives.
Silhouettes of arms embracing,
foresaw crimson shadows for their eyes.
Here is a native country
human scenes with human tears
by a fire of quaintness passions passed
in the quantum light of years.
6/12/17
TRIBUTE TO NATIVE CULTURE
Sponsor, Line Gautier
Categories:
quaintness, history, imagination, light,
Form:
Quatrain
by Sashi.Prabhu
(17/2/2012)
Shrouded and festooned with quaintness i try to elucidate the trips of mystery,
T’was dark and it was then I realized that the morn and noon was history.
A smooth trip on mother nature’s bounties rolled on neatly into a joint,
It felt all day as me and the bard within went on a trip from reality the shackle disjoint.
Rendezvous point was at the foothills of the zeauoxian Milky Way
Way beyond my mind can comprehend I see myself move fast and dwindle away.
Away, away and far away through starry paths, the galactic colonies and black holes
Yesterday seemed like tomorrow and today like the near future, written on ash scrolls
Tornados, galactial storms, raining meteorite, planets, and stars I beyond them travel,
Oh my body is the ship and my mind the deck console for the paths to ravel.
There at a distance I see us approaching Venus,
Hovering above hostile mutant colonies with mammals, moth worms and flora genus,
Earth behind seemed afar & beautiful and I every moment growing creative and ticinus.
Ship trips and galaxial flips,
Tardy nites and the dark nicotine stained finger tips,
Annular eclipse occurring in my mind’s eye as the white light zips,
Rummaging my mindly scripts for notes of melancholy strains as the notes dance on,
Slammed by the downer, my trips are done& for another, on ganjain I count upon.
Categories:
quaintness, imagination, nostalgia, science fiction,
Form:
Acrostic
Every person on this earth
Is different from their time of birth
Rare and special qualities
Make us all new and unique
Hair of black, brunette or gold
Accents in our stories told
Thin or fat-- short or tall
A quaintness will run through us all
Green eyes, brown or even blue
Contact lenses-- glasses too
Outgoing, nerdy, even shy
Everyone that we pass by
A man, woman, boy or girl
Contributes something to our world
Like a smile on the way
To brighten someones dreary day
Donating food and clothing too
Helps families who can't make it through
Inside everyone there is
An angel that is being hid
Waiting to come out and fly
On golden wings so they can try
To help a stranger or a friend
Never knowing in the end
Our differences all come together
To make the lives in this world better
Categories:
quaintness, world,
Form:
Rhyme
Springtime is more than just flowers and sun.
April is drenched, and bees will have much fun.
Swarming insects frighten with bites and harm.
A staining sludge swamp and stinky silt farm.
Sneeze and hay heat-stinging eyes are a curse.
Lands that loom like orbs, yet deceits are worse.
Yet, we must not squander sight of quaintness
with the rigors that spring brings or faintness.
Berth booms boost pollination burden rood.
Spring is spasmodic, apart from the mood.
White snow morphs into mushy rolling hills.
And sprinkle down verve up till the dale spills,
Flowers rising from snowfall restore hope.
Were we blithe beyond the zenith and slope?
3rd place contest winner
Written: February 05, 2023
Spring Is Not All Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Michelle Faulkner
Categories:
quaintness, analogy, appreciation, spring,
Form:
Sonnet
In this remarkable world without reasons
Every word and every thought seem so priceless
Something that can bring belief into you
On the other hand, it can also rip you heart apart
We learn how to verbalize the ideas in our minds
That what we think is often reversed with our heart
In our youth, we learn how to say as of A to Z
Every letter with its own value within
Agony – bereavement – caginess – death - excitement – failure - hope – generosity –
insanity – jealousy – knowledge – love - modesty – narcissism – obsession – peacefulness-
quaintness - rottenness- saintliness – temptations – urbanity – voracious - wisdom -
xenophobia – yearning and zealous
As you can notice on each word above
It has overflowed inside our minds
We face those values each day
These are all emotions that stay in each soul
Some of us may struggle with reality
They keep on holding on their hopes and dreams
To find a better place to live and heart to loved
To discover what is secured to stay alive
Not so slightly of us living in worry
Searching for a bit of bliss to cover their agony
They will keep on running from reality
From the madness of life and the loneliness of heart
If there is only one hope in this universe
And people are fighting to grab on it
One hope to sterilize our impure hearts
Then my wish is to die in peace
Categories:
quaintness, lifeheart, heart, hope, universe,
Form:
Free verse
Alone, still jolie...
Because he
Could and
Did enjoy you.
Even if you saw nil and yet
From his strong
Grave, he stands
Heroic, wanted, and watching
If not unsure, he waits, washed up in tinsel town lurching to
January and the daily, cold rain.
Killing the shivering aged,
Laughing to mute the terror,
Murmuring to snap-stop the laughter.
No, nay, never,
O, it's no nay never, no never, no more.
Please pass the tear bottles, mine eyes delighted
Quaintness, askewing our
Reluctant rabble,
Swishing serpentine, our five minutes famous.
Tomorrow's displacements, and plain
Untimely discourse undaunted,
Vaults simpleton sayings into
What our mind unravels, into noble
Xenophonic gases, into how I know and how
You show, every one last
Zenith, leaves every one last queen, yet
Alone still jeweled.
Categories:
quaintness, allusion,
Form:
ABC
1/3/2012
Shrouded and festooned with quaintness i try to elucidate the trips of mystery,
T’was dark and it was then I realized that the morn and noon was history.
A smooth trip on mother nature’s bounties rolled on neatly into a joint,
It felt all day as me and the bard within went on a trip from reality the shackle disjoint.
Rendezvous point was miles away at the foothills of the zeauoxian Milky Way
Way beyond my mind can comprehend I see myself move fast and dwindle away.
Away, away and far away through starry paths, the galactic colonies and black holes
Yesterday seemed like tomorrow and today like the near future, written on ash scrolls
Tornados, galactial storms, raining meteorite, planets, & stars,miles beyond them travel,
Oh my body is the ship and my mind the deck console for the paths to ravel.
There at a distance I see us approaching Venus,
Hovering above hostile mutant colonies with mammals, moth worms and flora genus,
Earth behind seemed afar & beautiful and I every moment growing creative and ticinus.
Ship trips and galaxial flips,
Tardy nites and the dark nicotine stained finger tips,
Annular eclipse occurring in my mind’s eye as the white light zips,
Rummaging my mindly scripts for notes of melancholy strains as the notes dance on,
Slammed by the downer, my trips are done and for another, on ganjain I count upon.
Categories:
quaintness, adventure, fantasy, imagination, dark,
Form:
Rhyme
Matriarch mastermind manipulated minions
rang their hells bells signifying
damned to traverse highway to hell
dirty deeds done dirt cheap
(names changed fo' malady to remain anonymous,
cuz they got thunderstruck
with psychological trauma).
Preface:
Upon bitterly cold dawning hours of January 2000,
the Harns family (not actual name of real persons
constituting yours truly
mine wife and at that time
deux darling very young daughters)
desperately sought place to live.
Neon Swat Team (an independent realtor) politely
informed us (meaning myself and the missus), our
family lease would not be renewable.
The reason without a rhyme?
Ever since events initially laid forth as poem,
I delightfully witnessed birth of daughter
number two February 4th, 1999, (whose existence this
papa helped beget approximately nine months prior),
now twenty two plus years passed rendering contractual
non-binding obligation null and void - whew.
Even though then barely tipping scales at less than ten
pounds of flesh, (this bundle of sugar, spice and everything
nice, especially when adorned in pink bows inclusive),
she warranted unlawful occupancy capacity subsequently
exceeding one plus bedroom apartment in Schwenksville,
Pennsylvania.
Body quasi poetic/prosaic
minimally couched, sunk, tabled...
within wordy mosaic:
We reckoned to live temporarily at premises vacated by
mother in law from hell (since recent death of her husband,
whose after life settled him in Willoughby) domicile situated
at 1148 Tree Green Lane (a cozy and lazy keystone chic
urban outfitted hamlet tucked into totally tubular foothills of
Venn Palley, Pennsylvania), a nook of quaintness plum
perfect where rivers Ratford Upon Savon converged.
Categories:
quaintness, abuse, adventure, anger, bullying,
Form:
Free verse
gramps' farm cottage, photogenic,
exudes country quaintness, scenic,
but wait till his grandkids arrive,
bedlam it'll be, a mad hive,
what to us may be anarchic,
for gramps, joyfully chaotic!
Categories:
quaintness, family, children, funny,
Form:
Rhyme