Best Trimeter Poems
trijan refrain
The heart half full means something’s wrong -
the Spirit’s oil runs low.
When emptied, broken, we are strong
refilled, and ready so -
God’s strength can fix a heart gone dull
our selfish contents He can cull.
God’s strength restores
God’s strength restores
each day to keep our mark on full.
The heart half full means needs may go
unmet by God’s own grace.
We’re called to let our fellows know
that they can win this race.
God’s Word abounds with help each day,
it must be read to find the Way.
God’s Word abounds
God’s Word abounds
to fill the empty hearts who stray.
The heart half full calls us to prayer,
it’s time to take a break.
Engaged with work, no time to spare
another’s thirst to slake?
God’s love pours forth when we look up
and ask for wisdom in our cup.
God’s love pours forth
God’s love pours forth
enough to share, our neighbors sup.
posted September 19, 2014
**I realize this is a combination of iambic verse in tetrameter, trimeter, and dimeter but that is the requirement for a trijan refrain, a variable line length. If it does not meet the rules of your contest, I will understand.
Categories:
trimeter, repetition, spiritual, words,
Form:
Verse
There's a river that twists in the mind
that I plunder and ravish with sieves,
on crusades to the summit of rhyme
where my Phoenix of tropes and schemes live.
In a war to free diction's fair Queen
where the Soldiers of Babel bemuse
and the modern day graceless regimes
are in battles to stifle my muse!
In my quest for her verse of prestige
I have traveled a nexus of words
with this Lexis of language on siege;
where the dissonant hum drum is heard!
Oh, the poise of my bayonet firm
as I pin down my thoughts in a rush!
Oh, the will of the language it squirms
as her essence of glory I brush!
She's the Queen Muse that whispers within
as she watches me battle with style,
she supplies me the yarn that I spin
as she lends me her rhythm awhile.
It's the moment her Highness is freed
that the Armies of Dissonance fall
and the sound of Perfection can bleed
in those lyrical sounds that enthrall!
Categories:
trimeter, imagination, on writing and
Form:
Rhyme
As I walk through the doors of the hall,
I am swept off my feet by such flare.
When I think that tonight’s my first ball,
How I blush thinking thoughts I don’t dare.
Lovely music pours out of the room,
And my hips sway beneath my pink gown.
Mom’s eyes seek a potential bridegroom
Dad’s eyes stop, my swaying with a frown.
Ushered in the big room my eyes dance
As they rush over grandeur so bright
Chandeliers they brought over from France
Fill the room bringing splendour and light
On the sidelines I can’t help but stare
Pretty walls lined with roses and vines
Sweetest scents of Guerlains fills the air
As the ladies and gents sip their wines.
Fine madam’s gowns blend in with the walls
And the heavenly ceiling divine
Pastel angels and blue waterfalls
Someone begs me to dance just in time.
As we twirl on the dance floor I’m charmed
Looking into his eyes, I turn red
And I’m weak in this young man’s strong arms
Looking up angels spin round my head.
All too soon my first ball has to end
Sweetest dreams I shall cherish tonight
When I think of my newly found friend
Just the thought of him brings such delight
Anapest Trimeter
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
11.27.2014
Sponsor Isaiah Zerbst
Contest: Ballroom Delights
1st place
Categories:
trimeter, dance, emotions, first love,
Form:
Rhyme
As I start on a quest finding self,
I must look very deep in my soul.
Here I will not find books on a shelf,
That will help me get close to my goal.
Clear I see as a child I was free
Brought to church I was taught God to love.
Where I walk tranquil streams follow me,
Down a path that would lead to above.
Twas my goal never wander away,
For my heart and my soul lived for God.
I would fall on my knees where I’d pray,
Knowing he was my staff and my rod.
Then a storm raged one day at my door,
I was angry at life’s awful turn,
All my faith it just crashed to the floor,
Now my hate strongly started to burn.
Blaming God never came to my mind,
Just my doubt had spread turmoil in me,
Now this dark hole inside made me blind,
All this hate in me screamed set me free.
Welcomed back like the prodigal son,
Jesus kissed all my sorrows away,
Wiped the tears I had shed dried each one,
I am saved by his grace every day.
As I end now this quest finding self,
I’m at peace and my spirit is free.
All my sins just like dust on a shelf,
Free to fly with these wings God gave me.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
10.06.2014
For Pendleton Arkwright’s Contest:
Anapest Trimeter
Categories:
trimeter, anger, god, jesus, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Today I feel iambic! I would say
of all the meters, I like it the best.
An iamb starts with some soft sound to say
then ev'ry second syllable is stressed.
Trochees likewise, alternate their stresses;
even-numbered syllables are muted.
Nowhere near as popular (my guess is) -
Trochee fans, though, fervently dispute it.
Feet are the units of meter - such fun!
Dactyls have syllables STRESSED/, un-/, and un-.
"T'was the Night Before Christmas" is in Anapest:
that's a foot with three syllables: un-/, un-/, and
STRESSED.
The meter is the pattern of the beats within a line
"Iambic" and "Heptameter" describe this line just fine.
Anapestic Tetrameter: four anapests;
and the best part of THIS lecture series? No tests!
Trimeter has three feet
Tetrameter has just four feet
Pentameter adds one foot, making five
Hexameter adds one: six feet in this beehive
Heptameter has seven feet, but now it's getting late;
and so I'll close with this (you may have guessed):
Octameter has eight!
written 1 July 2023
Categories:
trimeter, poetry,
Form:
Rhyme
Your wishes can't regain,
A thrill so long ago.
To once again reclaim
A past you wouldn't know.
You view a different dance,
With unfamiliar tune
You pine for lost romance,
Yet treasure not the Moon.
Meter - Iambic Trimeter (Cataletic).
A-B, A-B Rhyme.
Gene Bourne.
06-11-14
.
Categories:
trimeter, age, allegory, allusion, desire,
Form:
Rhyme
So enchanted was Sun by Queen Sea
as he sat near some clouds high above
he began sliding down stealthily
till he touched the dark face of his love.
Then Sir Sky, so aroused by Sea’s hue,
began melting along with Sun’s rays,
and by now, Sun was dipping into
the blue depths of Queen Sea. In a daze,
Sky gazed down, and with ruddishness blushed!
Then a third lover looked on the face
of Queen Sea. Feeling thrilled, Night then brushed
rosy heavens with deep purple lace.
Night embraced lovely Sea! Sun was gone.
And again, Sky with envy looked on.
Sonnet done in nine-syllable lines for
the Anapest Trimeter Contest of Pendleton Arkwright
Categories:
trimeter, night, sea, sky, sun,
Form:
Personification
Shoe, shoe, boot
Shoe, shoe, boot
This surveyed
In solitude
Acquainted
Just for fun..
Categories:
trimeter, fun,
Form:
Today I’d like to talk to you about how meter plays a part in
how we write a poem and sometimes in how we speak
The above lines, which are not at all poetic, are written in a specific
rhythm, or meter. Go back and read them again. You’ll pick up on
the rhythm: da DUM, da DUM, da DUM, etc. (unaccented syllable,
accented syllable, etc.)
The meter most commonly employed in poetry is iambic pentameter:
An iamb consists of an unaccented syllable and an accented syllable.
“Penta” means five. Therefore, five iambs create the meter called
iambic pentameter. Now, we’ll look at the top two lines again, this
time dividing the words into three lines: 1. Today I’d like to talk to you
about 2. how meter plays a part in how we write 3. a poem and some-
times in how we speak. This plain, literal language is written in the
rhythm used in many poems—iambic pentameter.
Literary examples, followed by everyday language, all in iambic pentameter:
“That’s my last Duchess painted on the wall.” (Robert Browning)
My rubber ball went bouncing down the hall! (Yours truly)
*****************************
“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” (THE Bard)
Let’s stop and buy some gum along the way. (Yours truly)
****************************
Ask me for trochees, dactyls, anapests,
and spondees. All will take me quite a while.
Request tetrameter and trimeter.
Will do! But none of these will make me smile
like writing five neat iambs in each line.
I most enjoy this well-established style.
August 1, 2018
Contest Title: Reads Like Music--Haibun-Look poetry contest
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Categories:
trimeter, language, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
See the sparkle in children’s bright eyes,
how they glow with a smile on their face.
When a puppet begins to dance free,
with a master who moves him with grace.
Hear the laughter kids shout loud with glee,
when a hand puppet tickles their neck.
Daddy’s game they adore every night
and they scream as he gives each a peck.
Feel the happiness filling the room
mama’s fingers they dance up and down,
with ten puppets so small singing songs
and each one has the face of a clown.
Every eve comes the dark of the night
shadow puppets are formed on the wall.
and a boy who dreams someday he’ll be
the greatest puppet master of all.
Anapest Trimeter
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
12.26.2014
Contest: Puppets
5th
Categories:
trimeter, children, fantasy, fun, happy,
Form:
Rhyme
Its feet are tiny dimeter,
Body, spirit, soul, trimeter,
Would you look at those ears and eyes
Whose tetrameter rhyme defies
Its foot with pentameter toes,
Smelled by monometer nose!
Don’t fret when its iamb voice speaks
Cheerful quatrains for days and weeks.
Stand still while it jabbers spondee,
In stanzas of metered trochee.
Well, my friend, please do not pretend,
Or you’ll cause more stress at the end.
Each verse it speaks is oh, so sweet
For it’s growing Longfellow feet!
Sit back, relax, put on a smile,
You’ve been zapped by a poet’s grandchild!
Categories:
trimeter, on writing and words
Form:
Quatrain
~~
A glass wing butterfly,
so very gossamer;
A rainforest treasure,
she looks up to the sky;
And away she will fly,
in deep dark rapture.
Small frogs of the forest,
the bright, colorful hue;
Sweet, they play in the dew,
on green they like to rest;
Oh, they are the sweetest,
and there! Hummingbird blue.
Small creatures all gripping,
under green leaves, dripping.
______________
August 16, 2015
Poetry/HexSonetta /Iambic Trimeter/"Under Freen Leaves, Dripping"
Copyright Protected, ID 15-700-403-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, The HexSonnetta,
sponsor, Andrea Dietrich
Fifth Place
Categories:
trimeter, animal, beauty, bird, butterfly,
Form:
Sonnet
quatrain with anapestic trimeter
Jesus Christ, holy God, pardons sin;
I give praise and respect to the Christ.
His good grace as I ask - is a win
since for His love, no price would suffice.
In no way does no price mean no cost.
For God’s mercy's a gift He presents.
Left unopened, this present is lost
for eternity – wasted expense.
The real cost for our Lord was His blood;
lives redeemed, sinners suffer no loss.
And our God sends His Spirit to flood
the new life with the pow'r of the cross.
Sin's a breach between man and his God.
He deserves no mere shallow embrace.
No believer with simply a nod
understands the full cost of His grace.
When we forfeit expedience, how
does a friendship with God e'er begin?
Jesus Christ wants obedience now
unto God, the Forgiver of sin.
Hear this proverb and wonder thereof,
A friend's worth, your intent and its end.
Hear it well, "There is NO greater love
than to lay down your life for your friend.”
John 15:13
Categories:
trimeter, friend, love, spiritual,
Form:
Quatrain
BUTTERFLIES
Butterflies, in danger, realise,
and many have already gone extinct!
They could not adapt to climate warming. •
The Wallbrown lost in my local precinct. /
How many more before we realise? /
Pollution takes no sides, kills lives! /
I care, “Do you”, I'm asking? /
Think about it while your basking! /
For climate warming now decides! /
Butterflies are not the only ones so?/
What to do to make things as was? \
Well, think about not polluting now! \
We have to stop it, yes somehow! \
Don't live in denial because \
time is running out for many species. \
Nothing has ever been more distinct \
Nature's been screaming many a warning! \
Not yet in the red, fast moving from pinked! •
Come on before all life dies, let's get wise!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Butterfly Quintet
didactic
This is the definition of a Butterfly Quintet, the form was created by Amanda Jean Norton
Stanza 1 is Iambic Pentameter rhyming abcbd
Stanza 2 is Iambic Tetrameter rhyming effe
Stanza 3 has 2 lines of Iambic Trimeter, Enveloped by 2 lines of Iambic Pentameter
The rhyming words are the same words in each set EGGE
Stanza 4 is Iambic Tetrameter rhyming hiih
Stanza 5 is Iambic Pentameter rhyming abcbd
Categories:
trimeter, butterfly, nature, pollution,
Form:
A good poetry emanates from the heart of the poet, vibrates in its rhythm that resonates in the mind of the reader. The form of poetry has evolved over the years with literary experiments on poetic expressions where the muse weaves tapestry of words. The traditional forms of verse use some kind of rhythmic pattern called meter (meaning ‘measure’ in Greek), a scheme of stressed and unstressed syllables. Each set of such syllables comprises a foot, the building block of meter. The lines of most of English poetry are like garlands that string together the foot, the individual rhythmic unit, the flower. The arrangement of syllables (stressed, unstressed) in these units in lines of a poem may vary, deciding its meter, such as, Iamb (a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable), Pyrrhic (2 unstressed syllables), Spondee (2 stressed syllables), Trochee (a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed syllable), Anapest (2 unstressed syllables followed by a stressed syllable), and Dactyl (a stressed syllable followed by 2 unstressed syllables). The length of the line is controlled by the number of feet, giving the metric pattern to the poem, such as, monometer (1 foot), dimeter (2 feet), trimeter (3 feet), tetrameter (4 feet), pentameter (5 feet), hexameter (6 feet) etc. In this basic pattern the rhythm is how the words flow with the meter. Rhythm can be created by repetition of words that flow in metric pattern or by breaking up the flow with longer or shorter lines. A poem is indeed like a river that flows with words in lines rippling in rhythmic pattern.
In the mountains cascades the brook in glee,
water of the foothill river is free,
the feet of banks dancing ripples embrace,
the rhythm of flow wraps the river in grace.
Ripples may come, ripples may go, it flows
to the ocean, placid ocean it goes.
July 19, 2018
(The poem is set in iambic pentameter with rhythmic repetition of words in the last two lines.)
Categories:
trimeter, poems, poetry, river, simile,
Form:
Free verse