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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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I heard my name from shadows spoke,
beyond the place called time
where thoughts begin, from deep within
where names have never been
It's there I found the driftless peace
upon the sunlit glen
far from the distant cloudless nights
where hope has never been
I felt the tears of morning dew
the Angels left for you
I'll shine a light upon your path
that sunrise never knew
Copyright © James Marshall Goff | Year Posted 2009
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Who walks into forever maudlin and seeking heights misplaced ?
What tortured memories, would mankind wish most undone, unsung?
When time's tide seeks to gather grace, with each painful thought displaced,
Where fullness bursts, how happy will those emptied heart-holds be once wrung?
Why waste the gift of life seeking solace with such unbridled haste.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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At midnight, surrounded by those who are dear,
Countdown is over; champagne has been chilled
The bells are now ringing...a Happy New Year!
Bottles are popping, the glasses are filled
We’re singing together with hugs and a tear.
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Contest: A Quintain Christmas
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Copyright © Paul Callus | Year Posted 2014
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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The flower opens its chalice
Of tender petals to the sun
Pleasant object of the bee's fun
Making sweet honey in this bliss
Each to know what life brings, a gift.
The lily fears not the outcome
When the time comes to open
And offer the world its essence
It only knows it to be a good one
Pleased even when it is plucked out.
The rose will not open until
It is encircled in sunshine warmth
It dances in the light, a force
Felt to its core, trusting its will
To be a delight, its reason to live.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright 05.13.11
Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix | Year Posted 2011
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Shy is the February sun
Above the frazzled fatherland
However hearts are not undone
Giving instead a warmer brand
Holding one closer under the sun.
A prelude to Valentine's day.
Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix | Year Posted 2012
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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On a crisp autumn afternoon,
Much to my stunned delight,
Storms clouds morph into monsoon
With jagged spears of light
And thunder cracks of doom.
Dancing in the storm’s eye
Fat raindrops bouncing all around
Afraid I will soon die
Trying hard not to drown
So happy I could cry.
After months of summer sun
Rivers and streams almost dry
Rain pounding like a drum
No chance of blue sky
Praying more rain will come.
Copyright © Miss Sassy | Year Posted 2015
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Mother Nature stretches across a floor
wearing stones and beads of sand. Placidly
she warms herself beneath the sun where shore
meets the shining waters of azure sea,
and in this place I could not love her more!
written July 14, 2016
for the "One Stanza - One Only" of Broken Wings
The Sicilian Quintain form's rhyme scheme is ababa
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Sunset sky was like a fiery red flame
wistful touch on her hair with a sigh
Warm, sweet smell of cinnamon apple pie
A rose in my safe caress. Butterfly
heavenly feelings as cupid took aim
© 6/22/2015
Contest Name: Five Lines/ Metaphors And Simile
Sponsor: Sara Kendrick
Envelope Quintet
10 syllables a,b,b,b,a
Copyright © Eve Roper | Year Posted 2015
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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The past year ended in burlesque
champagne oerflowing to the New.
Yet what next comes could be grotesque
if not for ancient scholars who
plot heaven's pathways at their desks.
Their charts of celestial gases
reveal the course of future time
find a path which safely passes
past Thesaurus and forced rhyme
bringing Quintain to the masses.
note - Iambic (mostly) tetrameter rather than pentameter
but Quintain (Scillian) was the nearest form
Copyright © Dave Will | Year Posted 2015
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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I tell you, girl, it’s better not to pout
Some tasty treats I have for you in store
I'm Santa's helper with a member stout
Unlike poor Santa, I can give much more
I'm sure in bliss my name you'll scream and shout!
For Andrea’s Quintain Christmas Contest
Sicilian Quintain contest written in Iambic Pentameter
January 2, 2015
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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The inn had gone to waste: I’d sold it off in haste.
Awaking in the gloom, as orbs lit up the room,
I recognised the ghost of Jonson, the old host.
I said, ‘I thought you’d come’ - and poured myself a rum.
He shouted, ‘Hey, you louse, how dare you sell MY house!’
Internal rhyme/slant rhyme
Copyright © jack horne | Year Posted 2011
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Oh sun, I feel you underneath my skin.
The heat you radiate amazes me.
Your light, a precious gift, I stay within
until you dip yourself beneath the sea,
red glowing - signaling night to begin.
For "The Answer" Poetry Contest of Skat
My answer is inside this poem In honor of the sun that I adore!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Wonder when
the sun will break through
these clouds that have entered
the skies no longer blue
its favorite color.
Wonder when
these eyes will see through
the fog that has obscured
the light of the avenue
where love is discovered.
Wonder when
the tree will bear fruits
Have I given it enough water
enrich the soil enough for strong roots?
I see buds have sprung open.
And I know
the sky has not lost its blue
the soul sees even when the fog obscures
blooming foreshadows fruition, so it continues
what begins in love, never ends.
By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 08.12.11
Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix | Year Posted 2011
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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The flame in contest combats the chill of the night
I see an old man in remembrance of his youth
his words gaped in jest if only to shroud life’s plight
scars of countless carnal lies a hub of untruth.
In the brazier raindrops snarl, routine so trite.
for my uncle, R.I.P
Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2010
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Days of children's innocence
Have gone a shade of grey
By a society focused on the senses
Overpowering the need for spiritual higher grade
As self gratification has become its trend
Homes, empty, gone to silence
Parents gone to pursue their agenda
Children have become orphans
Rely on TV, movies, games for stamina
Where is Bora Bora, they have no notion.
Growing up with a new kind of parents
Holding in their hand, the remote control
Feeding on the degrading fashions and trends
Eating chips and exercising thumbs like robots
Can't spell a word, but can cuss at length.
It is high time to wake up
To this sad reality, with a world
That shows such terrifying stunts
That offer little hope to unfurl
Let us chase the sunlight before tomorrow's up.
By CarolineCécile
Copyright 05.07.11
Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix | Year Posted 2011
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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It's hard to go day by day,
Remembering all you had to say;
I think about you everyday,
I thought of you teh most today.
Missing you is a hard job,
Loving you an easy job;
Wanting to hold you tightly,
Wanting to hear you talk softly.
My heart breaks when I'm not with you,
Sometimes I just don't know what to do;
I can still remember that goodbye,
Wish it wasn't the last bye.
My memories fade slowly,
Your face I hold dearly;
Sometimes not clearly,
Oh how I wish you were near me.
I can write,
I can cry,
I can scream,
I can forget,
I can get mad at the world,
No matter what I do, the pain gets worse.
I'm sorry,
But goodbye and letting go, are impossible.
Copyright © Natasha Thandie | Year Posted 2011
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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It disappeared, we gave it away.
I’d like to find it again, for sure.
A good old fashioned holiday,
one without the digital manure,
the hype and verbal foreplay.
© 03 Dec 2010 Charles Henderson
Copyright © Charles Henderson | Year Posted 2010
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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{Serving a living GOD= Of all the insecure phenominals that has plague our citie's and
brought much much saddness on our sister's and Brothers in our
armed forces or abroad. The mercifulness of his power shall
prove itself, over the forces of evil soon within the process of
time. Don't let the predicament's of our Nation cause you to loose
your mind.}
Poem: In a world that has gotten away from the tradition of living and respecting the his-
torical pentecostal effigy of what is written. To a wayward land of oppourtunistic individuals
that thrive's on doing what is forbidden. To a world that has polluted itself with addiction and
allienating the innocent and the tribulation from Nation too nation's. When someone can walk-
out of your life, "the saying of old is to let them go". But does one dare ask to debate of
this "living God" to "Open the Floodgate's, let it rain, rain in membranch of Hirroshema, 911
and Pearl Harbor and this man-made war in Afghanistan". Touching you spiritually, "let it
rain, of him who create's man from the grain of sand". Many times trying to hold onto some-
one or something that has gotten you away from a life of permissitive and impotent wisdom,
has cause many of us to make decision's sommily on lust of the flesh. "I come not to des-
troy but that you may have life and have it more abundantily, to set free, I shall return but
do not wait. (The Lord spoke these words of Knowledge)
"Open the floodgate's", a living God would not tell you, take a loaded plane full of people's
and fly them into a building, so satin your present is "not up for debate". He has taken the
essence of time and the concept that shall never have to wait, in this world of no love. He
will cause the sky to give way of the emnity that lie's in wait.
"Open the Floodgate's, let it rain - rain on the lost and the children's who needs to debate".
Copyright © John Streeter | Year Posted 2009
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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With your head on my lap, your breath falls deep.
My gentle fingers swirl and twirl your hair.
A hidden smile conveyed by your cheeks.
My hand then lowers to your face with care.
And beautiful eyes are now lost to sleep.
Copyright © Paul Stacey | Year Posted 2010
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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I will think positive so I can be,
To think of defeat means only to lose,
So I shall think of how winning suits me,
And how I will live my life as I choose,
It’s all in my mind and my mind thinks free.
The power of thought, a wonderful thing,
My philosophy that lifts my heart high,
I believe in rainbows where bluebirds sing,
And if I want to, I can kiss the sky,
And it doesn’t matter what dark clouds bring.
Form: Sicilian Quintrains
Copyright © Jemmy Farmer | Year Posted 2012
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Each February brings that special chance,
One day a year to say the words of love,
Without a love to share the wined romance,
Instead I look up to the stars above,
While remembering days when we would dance.
Those nights I held you close, so close to me,
Or held your hand while walking by the shore,
Those times we were young and loving free,
Yet now each day means that I miss you more,
But when I close my eyes you’re all I see.
No day goes by without a thought of you,
Each morning brings that now familiar ache,
And skies never seem to be quite as blue,
For you, my heart, I can never forsake,
You are my words and ev’rything I do .
Each February brings that special chance,
One day a year to say the words of love,
I have a love to share divine romance,
When e’er I look up to the stars above,
And remember the time you and I danced.
Form: Sicilian Quintains
Copyright © Jemmy Farmer | Year Posted 2012
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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I heard my little bird singing the breeze,
I heard her singing on a breath of air,
The air that slowly moves through forest trees,
The old, oak trees where initials declare,
Declarations made upon love’s high trapeze.
Old memories recalled again today,
Another day, another time, we knew,
I knew that bird song would echo my way,
The way a joyful song reminds of you,
The you that I hold dear in my heart to stay.
In memory of my little bird, Tash
RIP sweetheart!
xxxx
Form: Sicilian Quintains
Copyright © Jemmy Farmer | Year Posted 2012
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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There I stood, barely nine
as he was taken in the light of day.
A prisoner of fate was I, given no sign,
to witness his limp body bruised lay,
yet as adult walked away from his shrine.
There I stood, steeling my stance
for the sake of my silence
as children mocked, giving no chance.
From solitude I drew my resilience
and gave no second glance.
Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2014
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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The Naughty Little Puppy
She's lucky she is cute!
All day long she's chewing things.
I've yelled so much I'm mute,
still she's chasing kids on bikes.
She's lucky she is cute!
She chewed my favorite boot
The first night on Christmas eve.
She even pooped on route
To our home that fateful night.
She's lucky she is cute!
My daughter's in cahoot
With this naughty little dog.
They yell and bark and hoot.
She feeds her from the table!
They're lucky they are cute!
The leash works to recruit
The children to her side, but
Her training's in dispute.
Surely guidance is required.
She's lucky she is cute!
Oh that naughty little puppy...
She's lucky she is cute!
Copyright © Cherie Fleming | Year Posted 2016
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Quintain (Sicilian) Poem
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Natural disasters are unstoppable disasters
No way to ignore and go away from them
But additional tension man-made disasters
No limitation of aches grow in innocent heart
In fact, the symbol of over ambition of human.
Bhaktapur, Nepal
09/08/2014
Copyright © Kamal Raj Dahal | Year Posted 2014
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