Best Tercet Poems
"The teacher who is indeed wise does not bid you to enter the house of his wisdom but rather leads you to the threshold of your mind." Khalil Gibran
Mr. Moore taught us English lit
but more important than that,
he taught us how to use our wit.
He willed us to go way beneath
the surface and there discover
treasures hidden under the heath.
He urged us all to cast our lines
way far out into our waters,
waters of thought, we could refine.
We found Truth was for Mr. Moore
like a shield or coat of armor.
These well-known words tacked to his door -
"Above all, To thine own self be true."
Then, does it really matter much
what others choose to say or do?
Virtue we came to realize
exists in the mind of the man -
his character without disguise.
An angel wrote with a golden pen in the marble book of fate.
The ink she used were the tears of men;
The words she wrote: Too late!
Back when we would walk in the spring-green wood
Holding hands, hearts joined only as lovers can
Thoughts circle round those days in the deep wildwood
Now aged, bent way past young adulthood
Young love comes in glimpses in this lifespan
Longing for Jesus' relief of my orphanhood
This year is winding down so fast-
seems yesterday was spring;
so many days have quickly passed.
Now autumn sets a stunning sight,
as trees bear crimson leaves;
in vibrant scenes, we find delight.
Before we know, snowflakes will fall-
for winter stands in line.
When done, another spring will call.
No matter how we live our days
time passing fast or slow-
the course of seasons never sways.
As nature promises, makes clear
and never lets us down;
four cycles done- begins new year
And, as we age, to hope we cling,
that when 'our winter' ends-
reborn we'll be- in Heaven's spring.
October 17, 2020
Contest: Writing Challenge - Tercets
Sponsor: Constance La France
Colors now shimmer in golden, backlit mist
where blue hydrangeas and red roses coexist
Purples and oranges adore a fresh morning.
Flighty trouble has, at last, gone away, riled
Since the mellow hour, my sunshine smiled
The green and pink birds are finally soaring!
Naturally, nature must love beauty so much
To shower flowers with silver, gold and such
Does pearly dew, gladden all of nature, too?
Strolling softly, in September rains,
beneath a bright, plaid umbrella.
A tender couple strolled in joyous love,
he indeed, her dear, sensuous ‘fella.
Listen now, to the tender raindrops,
singing such sweet notes, a cappella!
9/27/2024
{Defintion of a capella.To sing without words}
Poem form: Tercet. A group of three
lines of verse, that rhyme together.
It is also known as, “Terza Rima.”
Used in the Italian Sonnet, a classical form.
Where lies the line,
between humility and pride,
when does ambition become greed.
How short is the distance,
from disapproval to wrath,
between admiration and envy.
How easy is it to turn,
infatuation to lust,
indulgence into gluttony.
Will we know when,
relaxation becomes sloth,
or when a flower becomes just a weed.
Walk alone if there is no honor
See the world how beautiful it is
Earn the power of life to review
Depending carries the lame failure
Self-learning figures respect inner
So, walk alone if no one with you
©Mahtab Bangalee
Be it no more than just a glass of water,
A live walking stick played by a kind daughter
To a blind man whose walk is a vague totter.
Or quality time spent with someone old,
A blanket’s warm fold in times forlorn, cold,
In times of need a ready shoulder-hold.
A pair of slippers to feet walking bare,
Not in loud charity to show you care,
Heart-born feelings so felt drowning false air.
Anything— given short of counting ways,
Given to brighten up sinking heart’s greys,
To lighten load that too heavily weighs.
Give it in cash if it can’t be in kind,
Let it a gift of heart be, well inclined,
A gift of very soul, body and mind.
Give— the only joy greater than getting
Be the joy of giving and forgetting,
Helping in autumn times to invoke spring.
_____________________________________
Musings | 07.08.09 |
Poet's note: This poem is not a triolet, nor can it be called a Terza Rima. It can be a tercet, each stanza being of three lines, but this is not the option available.... Thanks PoetrySoup.com, Tercet is now available as an option, and I'm glad to call the poem Tercet, not Triolet (Jan 2025).
Freedom at Mid-Night
Huge crowd of a small town, lighted lamps and fireworks
No electricity, the only battery radio of my town on stage
Airing the first freedom speech of *Nehru sparking thus:
India made a tryst with destiny with many brakes
Now the time has come to redeem our pledge
At mid-night hour the world sleeps, India wakes.
A moment comes, but comes rarely in history
When we step out from the old to the new age
As the soul of India, long subdued, finds victory.
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*A great freedom fighter and the first Prime Minister of India.
January 29, 2015
Form: Tercets
Look Into My Eyes My True Love My Darling~
(Tercet)
When I see your smile my troubles go ‘way
take my hand since you already have my heart
for a long time I've given you all my love too.
No other love like yours I've ever really known
just come with me and never let's us be apart
cause your love's fire fed my heart and made it warmly grown.
Through life we now journey this road together
and all my love from my heart I give to you alone
I'll just keep you and our true love will cherish just forever.
Here in my heart all my love and trust you can just keep
always so very close to your own heart and your soul
Look into my eyes see all my true love for you so deep.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2015
February.09.2015
The bright green leaves are turning,
the forests look like burning;
cold weather is returning.
The days are growing shorter,
we're in the third year quarter;
the squirrel becomes a hoarder.
The stags in woods are clashing,
after the does they're dashing,
with raised white tales they're flashing.
The black bears are fat and round;
into deep dens they are bound,
spending winter underground.
Babbling brook takes its last run,
before freezing has begun;
must wait spring to have more fun.
One leaf left on tree
No undue unhappiness
Always in great spree
One leaf left on tree
All by itself in the airiness
Feels never lonely or retiree
One leaf left on tree
It spends itself as it sways
Breathing with utmost glee
Last leaf not the end ever
As its time comes, collapses
New buds sprout by the scent of water
The poem is in the form Tercet (Three lines Rhyme scheme aba, cbc,dbd, ebe). The form is not available on PS so I have posted it under rhyme.
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July 17, 2014
Theme: Renewal
Form: Tercet
Contest: The Scent of Water by Faye Gibson
**The poem is based on the real scene I saw two days back from my window.
I have taken some snaps and small video. I remembered the story The last
Leaf by O Henry and was inspired to write there and then.
*** Inspired by O Henry's short story The Last Leaf **
Undeclared evil intentions imposed
The dark side of ma·lev·o·lence exposed
Magnified by sheer brutality of acts composed
Aaaaah, evidence one can clearly see'th
All of humanity is faced with
Tragedy from hor·ren·dous acts commit
Shockingly dreadful acts caused by
Misplaced human beings cry
Who are currently living with an anger eye
Thus, being poured out in ways taking place
Never before seen or experienced 'bout face
On this planet's dust base
O Lord, thus is the day in whence for
Rev·e·la·tion is transcending upon us hardcore
In other words, ''WE ARE AT WAR''
To the wings of our dove, there is rosy parity
Fated to meet when the light meets the dark
Between us there is a bridge of love of solidity
As excited, I reached the bridge with hilarity
Hovering above me were dark clouds, Hark!
My eyes fixed on the other side with sere anxiety.
Standing on middle of the bridge with vivacity
Over her hamlet saw the firework’s sparks
Celebrating a wedding with awesome gaiety.
For the moment I thought it to be in her dignity
Was ready to burn the bridge between us as a mark
But later on learn it wasn’t her wedding in reality.
It was a life’s lesson not to burn bridge in adversity
Who knows if you burn the bridge in haste and hark
You may have to cross it again in your diversity .
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Date : 26-10-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
5th place win
Contest: Crossing that bridge by Deb Wilson