Get Your Premium Membership

Best Quintain (English) Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Quintain (English) poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of quintain (english) poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Quintain (English) poems, articles about Quintain (English) poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Quintain (English) poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...

View all new Quintain (English) Poems

The Best Quintain (English) Poems

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

In the Sun's Last Glow

On her terrace where she once had viewed a crimson field, she stands recalling heroes who were battling their foe. She still can feel the terror! How her poor heart reeled thinking of her lover fighting on the field below, with others on that plain bathed red as the sun dipped low. The brave men lie in caskets which now are concealed beneath a plain that ran with blood, where bright irises now grow. She thinks of her own strong brave man, draped in white and sealed forever in a casket too. He was her Romeo. The sorrow flooding her she had never thought to know. She looks down from her terrace with a heart that won’t be healed. The mighty dead now lie in grassy fields. . . and lo! Around the graves are swords, which are green blades revealed with *purple flags that softly wave as a May wind starts to blow and she is bathed in red again, there in the sun’s last glow. * Purple flags refer to the name of the purple iris that resembles a flag

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

She Wept In Languished Moan

         She wept as they buried her one true love.
             Each day thereafter she brought him a rose,
         the flower she knew he was fondest of.
             Her grief unbearable, beyond repose.
                What pain and suffering his death bestows.

         Nothing prevented her daily visit.
             She didn't want him to feel all alone.
        When beside him her face was exquisite.
            When weary she would sigh and then lay prone,
                 weeping for her love in soft languished moan.

                     Originally written on 23rd of July 2016
            Two Stanzas - English Quintain, 10 syllables per line 
                    with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-b

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Dear Quintain

Dear Quintain, how beautiful you are, allowing us to paint the spacious sea or sky, landscapes, or nights’ celestial bodies beckoning from afar. Even when my quill is running dry, with you along, my thoughts are sure to fly! For all I need to do is let you slip inside, then nestle in my brain. The pattern of rhyme required by you is not too difficult; here I will remain content to write with you, dear Quintain. Your English form, so lovely, does not ask that we adhere to meter even though I want to dance your lines as I bask in your sweet simple charms, and lo! My quill has filled; my lines now start to flow! I’ll keep on going for two stanzas more because I wish to sing your praises! My mind is like a shore upon which you are tumbling, glistening! A sea of inspiration you bring. Continue on - through poets - bringing words that paint our world, entreating all to see God’s gifts or to enjoy the singing birds, taste clear mountain springs, and smell the salty sea. Continue, dear Quintain, enrapturing me. Written 8/17/2015 , this is English Quintain, which has rhyme scheme of ababb and the lines do not have to be consistent in syllable count

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Wonders of Winter

Look up!  Snowflakes appear in streetlights
   Hear children cheer as snow days are announced
Watch the powder fly during snowball fights
   Listen as faith through joyful hymns is pronounced
   Join snow angel brigades while on wintery landscapes we pounce

Walk briskly with me through the winter woods
   Where boughs of evergreens droop with white frost
Don your boots and pull up your jacket hood
   Let’s slide on the lake until our energies exhaust
   Then trudge back home as snow drifts are crossed

Place damp clothes on a chair by the fireside
   Pour a glass of wine and snuggle with me
Whispers of passion, ‘neath a blanket confide
   Lights from the fir tree fill our hearts with glee
   As you offer me your ring on bended knee

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

December Magic

Frost crisped, the lawn remained
beneath the frozen dew.
Water dripped to ice as gutters drained.
The cardinal bids the day adieu;
the winter storm has left a gelid view.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

December Magic

 She   arrives with a mystic charm
 Gliding in on silver moon
 With a peaceful vibe that oft disarms
 As words of praise in yuletide tunes
 Echo  where the stars are strewn

Copyright © Joseph May | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Lost To Autumn

I thrive for summer, dancing free,
     Yet, when autumn breathes a sigh -
          Whispers deep, that voice, to me,
     Shadows stretch to kiss goodbye
The nape of August, bound to die.

     Seems the seasons know us best,
          When we ache for change, it comes,
     Bright-adorned, October"s breast -
Crimsons, umbers, scarlets, plums,
     Shades cascade in countless sums.

          Still, what speaks to me the most -
     Sharp and keen, that mistral, fall,
Shoulders back a youthful ghost,
     Dressed as then, in passion's pall,
          Waiting, breathless, for her call ...

     Then, as now, my heart so beat
For the hope to catch her gaze,
     'Twas only there I was complete,
          Lost within her wondrous ways ...
     Lost to love ... those autumn days.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Bring On Fall" Poetry Contest, Francine Roberts, Judge & Sponsor.

Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2018

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Curious Moon

A young man leads his girlfriend to a tree
one sultry summer eve as night is looming.
the branches of the old oak form a canopy
under which he leans in for a kiss, assuming
his new love also feels their romance blooming.

The pretty girl is innocent and shy,
but from the boy’s sweet kiss she feels that he
might be her one true love; more kisses make a sigh
escape her lips. Her inhibitions flee,
and touching him arouses her curiosity.

Aglow, they feel a passion all-consuming,
undressing one another as fingers fly.
The curious moon, with incandescence blooming,
peeks down from a star-bedazzled sky.
Young love with moon above shall never die.

Written 10/17/12 for Francine Robert's
Romance me with English Quintains Poetry Contest
and now for A true love -poem #2 - Poetry Contest of poet destroyer A

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

If This is My Last Poem

If this is my last poem, a masterpiece it will not be, nor a poem of sorrow written deep into the night. No self-recriminations or guilt. That is not me. By nature I’m a sonneteer. My poetry is light. A song of happiness and gratitude I’ll write. As imperfect as I always was and still am to this day, I have a gentle spirit and am kind like many others close to me, who I am glad to say I did not have to look too hard to find - good friends who understand my heart and mind. Yes, good friends I’ve always had; they are my prize for my simply being on this earth, for little do I do to merit their affection. In my eyes, they are roses; from random seeds they grew! Some flourish yet today in my garden of friendship sweet and true. Then there are my sisters, who from my mother’s womb came to share a strange and wondrous childhood with me. I’m lucky, for this fate did not spell doom. Though woes would soon ensue from a blended family, we found great pleasure in a lifestyle of simplicity. Older now, with children, my sisters and I thrive. The memories we made together, like a song, linger, and I’m happy to be alive, knowing that my children too belong with me in spirit, for our bonds are strong. Yes, friends and family, and so much more: a husband who works hard and has been true, the children of my children and the pets that I adore! There are students who have touched my life; they’ve come and gone, but how I hope that in their hearts a piece of me lives on. If this is my last poem, I must conclude with things I got to do! I got to play, see movies, write my poems, eat good food, and read of places that I got to visit far away! Thank you, God, for everything, is all that's left to say. Written Aug. 28, 2015 and now used June 26, 2016 for the Second Place Contest Contest of Laura Loo

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Reaping And Relishing

REAPING AND RELISHING SAPODILLA PLUMS Reaching out towards freshness all ripened, Holding onto huge branches hovering high, Not bothered about tan getting deepened, I hand pluck lush naseberries straight from the sky; Savouring sweetness with a satisfied sigh. 2nd August, 2017

Copyright © Jo Daniel | Year Posted 2017

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Sovereign Autumn

Awaiting Summer's rule to end
     Fall sleeps in dream of colored shades.
As sun unwinds its solstice bend,
     The hope of autumn soon pervades
     While emerald kingdom slowly fades.

When Autumn wakes from her repose,
     The cooling wind calls out to trees,
"Come trade your basic olive clothes
    For colored raiments as you please
    And walk with me upon the breeze."

The kindest queen of all the four,
     How graciously does Autumn start.
For all her subjects do adore
    Her renaissance of forest art
    And come to soothe heat-blistered heart.

Contest: Bring on Fall

Copyright © Jesse Rowe | Year Posted 2018

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Unzipped Lips

As I was busy “being” just who I am, I didn’t care what others were seeing. To be as they wish, would be a sham and I will not be part of a scam. People are really the sum of everything that has touched their lives. When others take issue with what you’ve become, don’t expect to receive high fives. If you stay true, your uniqueness survives. No one can tell you what to feel, when to laugh or how to pray. The very act of being real will find you rising above the fray, dispelling regrets each day. For if you submit to playing a role that doesn’t fit your personality, you’ll dig yourself deep into a hole. Don’t succumb to others’ mentality; maintain your individuality.
*English Quintain by Carolyn Devonshire for Nancy's "Unzipped Lips" contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Spring Sleep

Sighing softly, a gentle breeze, dances amid my clothes line. Sweet the scent, refreshing tease, as sheets, its hug entwines. This night, on Spring, I shall recline.
2/8/12 For the contest: English Quintain, A Spring Day Sponsored by Francine Roberts

Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Make a Wish

It's not too late to make your dreams come true. Can you recall sweet childhood and spontaneity? Something still is shining; let it beckon you. With hope, go out into the night, and like a child be! Make a wish upon the first radiant star you see. July 11, 2016 For the Make a Wish Poetry Contest if Kim Merryman

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Sweetest Starlight

The Sweetest Starlight
You are the sweetest starlight shining across the ocean so pure
Moonlighting and enchanting my dreams with warmth aglow,
Touching gently my heart and soul with your beauty and wonder;
If we were together—I would hold you so gently in my arms and I
Would forever kiss your adoring lips with a passionate goodnight.

Love is a faraway queen rising in the morning sunshine’s warm rays, 
And your light glows brilliantly as the dewdrops glisten on my dreams 
Of pure sweet surrender and kiss the very depth of my immortal soul;
You are the light of Heaven's dream of a rainbow's flight of angels
Arriving at Heaven’s gate and coming to me on a beam of silver light.

Mesmerized I am as I embrace you as the heart, soul, passion and
Desire of my life—I see you as my true dream and my heart’s delight;
Feeling palpably your wonderful caress as you ask me to kiss you,
And to place your ethereal lips upon my very own knowing that
My heart and soul are open now to your loving heavenly embrace.

Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 2, 2015 (Unrhymed Quintain)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

In a Field of Gold

Listen to poem:
“We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we lie in fields of gold.” - from Sting’s Fields of Gold One day in a museum, my mind on an old flame, I found myself mysteriously being led to a field of gold depicted within a gilded frame. In the picture, pretty flowers beckoned, a brilliant red. In front of it I stopped, thinking of my love and things we’d left unsaid. I blinked, and in an instant, I felt sunlight upon my face; then there escaped from me a cry of surprise and sheer delight! Finding myself engulfed by grassy sea, with myriad poppies, I thought how could this be? I twirled around. Yes, beneath my feet was solid earth! Above was azure sky. Spring was in the air, with fragrance sweet. I was in the painting. I did not question why! Oh, there was such beauty to make a poet sigh. I thought about a song from days of old - a song I used to hear on my car radio about a man, who with his sweetheart, walked in fields of gold, and I felt my bliss dissipating even though I could still feel on my cheek the sun’s warm glow. In the lovely flowered landscape, my time was nearly done. It would not matter even if this were reality! In fields of gold, I would lie with no one, and no jealousy would blue sky have for me, for even in my dreams, alone I’d be. . . Written May 7, 2016 and inspired by the "Within a Gilded Frame" Poetry Contest of Broken Wings Recorded with voice in June 2016 for CT's Audio Poems (Spoken Words)

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

"In the heat of Pasion" (to Angela wih love)

     The first time I saw you, there was a glow about you
      that baffle me.  I-I just could not find the right word,
     "you had that certain glow about you".  Not the way you walk
       nor the way you move, "but I believe in miracle's", yes
      I do - yes I do.  So finally I step to you and ask, would you,
       could you smile ? just for the camara in my mind so that the
      image of an Angel would be on my mind just in case the world
      ended (today) much to soon, much before time.  The first time
     I saw you naked Angela, my mouth got lost for words-but the one
      that slip through my lip's were (mmmunn) "what a gorcious women,
      breast like lucious melons", and a voice (sweet) like that of the ocean
     and wave's of heat and my idea of nerviousness brings trembeling to
     my feet's.
    "I do believe in miracle's", "I do not believe in love".  Miracle's that it
       take to sustain a relationship that the odd's of longivity are against us.
      And we do become desponded, most of our day is spent fussing and cussing.
     Never to see true love at its best.  The first time our lip's did touch, I remem-
     ber this Angel who I call Angela, she had my name tattoe across her chest.
      Love, became the missing attraction, and you comfort me in my desire to ex
    press myself, for I thought I was so macho, never in a thousand years, "will I
      meet such a someone (?) that's such a women".  A women (aaaah) such a
    women, "from her head to her shoe".  
       Now Angela just in case the world ends tomorrow.  Don't denie that there's an
       "attraction".  O'Angela.....kiss me quickly, "In the heat of Passion".

Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2010

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.


The whisper of your skin dissolving into mine - the weight of it is kin to that of wings of butterflies - divine deliciousness I can’t define! My precious love - We meld into a sky of night that’s never been so breathlessly partaken of nor ever will again. Exquisitely you paint my sweetest sin. For PD's Any Poem # 28 Free Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Make A Wish

In abandoned fields
the silhouette of a dad
blowing fluffy seeds
from the last dandelion's head
towards packed toys in the shed

Beyond mountain yields
Her hands untied from the bed
sweet little girl bleeds
yet runs far from the mad lad
as blowballs steer her ahead.

Inspired by kim Merryman's contest - Make A Wish  ( Double or Single Quintain)
Thanks Kim ( Not for the contest)

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Infamous Icon

Should I enhance my recognition
by defiantly treading on an innocent heart?
Or perhaps mine is a sin of omission,
fleeing with fame a la carte,
while thoughtlessly tearing another soul apart.

What reward can be found
as I stomp on another’s dreams,
leaving them quaking on the ground
where incivility screams
and not one ray of light beams?

Perhaps there is more joy in obscurity
than in fame that grows from ill roots.
Before me is an angel basking in purity
besieged by destructive brutes –
wolves dressed in lambs’ suits.

My soul will not let me go there –
to that place where evils dwell.
Entrust my fate to a prayer
that self-promoting acts cannot dispel
the eternal fires of an infamous hell.

*Written April 12, 2015, for Sheri’s “I, Icon” challenge

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

From Now On

From now on, I'll focus eyes above the trees
when years have yet to be designed
with unknown lands, the eyes can't see.

I can't forget what's  left behind,
or the weight of tears that buckled knees,
but will look ahead, and set them free

Scars left upon the heart grew deep 
and I felt the thorns that taunted me
But, I'll  release the ghosts and set them free
to make my peace with destiny.
Some tears have washed away the times,
of steeper footpaths that I have climbed.
I will persevere, again, regain
a willingness to change the rhyme

Next year has yet to be designed
where eyes can see, where promise lies
We can't forget what's left behind,
but to all those things, let's say goodbye...
and spread new wings to fly


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

An Empty Street

One Texan day, a man close to his prime, sat down on a curb beside a tree. It was an empty street; there was no crime nor danger anywhere that he could see. But suddenly, the world he knew would cease to be. He’d lived a goodly life and sacrificed to leave his home and get a law degree. If there were a man I knew with attributes of Christ, he would be that man, for the epitome of someone with great love and compassion was he. I know this because he was my brother, and within our somewhat crazy, blended family, I would have to say there was no other among us all who worked so tirelessly to be a friend to all while meeting all his goals. Ah, life’s finality! He was on the threshold of his dream to practice law. Then out of nowhere, as he sat there on that empty street, the headlights of a drunk kid’s car he saw barreling down on him. My brother Dale, so sweet, was – in an instant- gone, for life sometimes can so unfairly fleet. Written Oct. 19, 2016 for Broken Wings' Words Drowned In Tears Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies

I saw them in the sunlight hovering
above the fragrant bushes on our street.
So many different hues of them! It was inspiring.
Beautiful bright ballerinas drawn to scents so sweet
were for me a wondrous and surprising treat.

So many kinds I witnessed; some rather large, some small.
On one shrub were butterflies pink-winged, but mostly blue.
Across the street were some that seemed dressed up for the fall
with golden flecks and orange streaks; then right around me flew
a group of twirling black-striped green ones ; soon my wonder grew!

Mysteriously, each multi-colored group began to drift
together with the other groups, but why? I only could surmise
that when I saw them all together readying to lift
into the sky, it was a gift meant only for my eyes -
art in graceful motion ascending - a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

Written May 14, 2016 

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Spring Lasses

March is the first to arrive on the scene. She sees Winter leaving and blows him a kiss, And then she starts in to paint the world green. Even though March has brought us such bliss, Spring will get even better than this! April comes next, summoning showers. That rain falls refreshingly from skies above. Soon we hear birds and smell fragrant flowers. Nature's rebirth we are witnesses of When April surrounds us with signs of God’s love. Butterflies flutter and baby chicks hatch. Sun gives more strength day by day. Our next lovely lass has nary a match, For she is the merriest, with the name May. Be happy when she’s on her way! June is the fourth and the last girl of spring, Distinctive because she’s the one To finish the season that makes our hearts sing. Even then, her work in not done. She ushers in Summer and welcomes new fun! *Written 4/11/14 For the Contest of Francine Roberts. I remembered this as a spring contest and forgot it was Spring DAY. I worked so hard on it, I just can't start again, so I hope you forgive it being about all of the spring days. In any event, thanks for the inspiration.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quintain (English) Poem | Create an image from this poem.


The world wants a torch
but I only wished to be a candlelight.
It gives dim light but will never scorch
Though it will never be a highlight
but it can be your hope tonight.

The world think highly of leader
but my eyes admire those who serve
Leaders may seems stronger
It is all because those who are willing to serve
Even if it will lead them to their grave

The world wants a raging water
But I only want to be in still
Does it even matter?
There is nothing more for me to fulfill
To become greater is what the world wants to instill.

By: Doris Jamoner - 01/28/2015

Copyright © Doris Jamoner | Year Posted 2015