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.
Tonight, her footsteps crack and moan —
She's useless when her tears frost over,
The gutter running without her, alone
There's another ghost inside porchlight silver,
A foot melting on the banister —
She's dark as the wind that picks her up,
This twisting whirl of white clumps
Against wind now seeming touchable —
Outside, the snow jumps
With the draft...and then the window's wail,
Being broken apart like snowflakes assails,
She touches the real parts in foggy glass —
The cold that blasts through a girl's face,
Years after, the woman outside this table —
So the terrace is her cup, white laughter, dark tastes.
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!
Wind breeze rustling up leaves
Earth with grass do caress your feet
Dew drops upon your cheeks
Waves are like coffee foams, in a huge ocean mug
Your hands submerged and wet
You are swimming in a lagoon, then a riverbed
Look up to see, tall snowy hills tips
A valley filled with a myriad of creatures
Natural is at rest, in its natural nest
Flowers, flush and blush:
In their seasonal best dress
Visualize paradise and enjoy it there, on earth
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?
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.
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.
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
The morning sun awoke the sleeping sky,
Where golden rays caress the gentle breeze,
And silver dew upon the meadow lies.
The sparrow takes its flight on eager wings,
To sing of freedom through the ancient trees,
While deep within the woodland chorus rings.
A quiet river winds its graceful way,
Reflecting clouds as restless as the seas,
It carries shadows through the fading day.
The silent valley rests in jade-like green,
Embraced by every whispering that breathes,
The fairest wild the world has ever seen.
A tapestry of color takes to flight,
Awakening the forest and the seas,
As morning chases out the chill of night.
The petals open to the warming sun,
And dance among the gossips of the breeze,
Until the evening journey has begun.
The quiet frost descends upon the land,
Beside the roaring, tempest-tossing seas,
A masterpiece by nature’s master hand.
The tallest mountains reach the heavens high,
To stand against the fury of the breeze,
Beneath the vastness of the painted sky.
A sudden storm begins to toss and roar,
Unleashed across the ocean and the seas,
To beat against the unforgiving shore.
The quiet woods are hushed in deep repose,
As gentle shadows settle through the trees,
And every fragrant blossom soft and close.
The twilight paints the west in glowing red,
A peaceful silence settles on the breeze,
As stars emerge above the earthly bed.
The silver moon commands the quiet night,
Reflected on the surface of the seas,
And bathes the sleeping forest in its light.
I’ve fewer days ahead of me
than those I have been blessed to see.
Time moves along so rapidly.
God still has plans for me, I know.
He’s guiding me as to and fro
I move through life with goals in tow.
Through a winding and narrow inlet of the bay,
Flanked by swaying tall growing grass on either side,
The small sturdy boat gently paved its lonesome way.
Inside sat two, moving to a place of beauty.
For the close friends, it was indeed a joyful ride-
A short vacation from their repugnant duty.
The boat’s onward movement was altogether smooth
The water was still and calm with no heaving tide.
The two were driven by a rare zest full of youth.
Pleating gentle curls in the water’s growing swell,
They moved on with sweet sentiments budding inside,
Over crest of water under a magic spell.
They saw tall hills at a distance with clumps of trees
They sat together enjoying the scenes outside.
Saw lush green foliage, nodding in summer breeze.
As they both slowly entered the bay’s wider mouth,
Strong waves began lapping on the boat from all side
And the vessel began swinging from north to south.
Leaving all pressing duties behind sullen shores
With rising spirit, they continued their sweet ride,
Forgetting their bitter past, its sorrows and sores.
As the magic moments mesmerized their senses,
They felt being swept over by love’s swelling tide,
And drifting to a world so free, sans all fences.
To wander beneath lush morning trees
Imprinting varnish of leaves, anew
When July casts its charm with such ease.
~The mantle of summer decked in reds,
This cycle brings dazzle, to imbue
A warm gust embellished from voile threads.
While meadows parade their sizzled grace ,
I romp along grasses' mellow view
Till sunlight weaves its pour of embrace.
Brooks temperate quide these nimble toes
Lingering on, buds trickle on cue--
My arms tossed in whimsical repose.
Until night gently inks this wild sway ~
A prayer, a moment , this debut
Enthralls my soul...tinged by heaven's ray!
Thinking back, so long ago
Remembering things, I've done
Always had a place to go
I would walk a country mile
When I was young, it was fun
Now, it would take me awhile
These old legs can't walk no more
I used to walk with my son
In the park or to the store
That was when he lived with me
He moved- that son-of-a-gun
Alone, I feel so lonely
Yet, I'm old, and still alive
I made it to ninety-one
Hmm... how long will I survive
Will I live another day?
No regrets the life I've spun
Only time will tell, they say