Rhyme Elegy Poems | Examples
These Rhyme Elegy poems are examples of Elegy poems about Rhyme. These are the best examples of Elegy Rhyme poems written by international poets.
Would you mind if I won’t talk
About what to do
Better sit, relax or walk
Silently subdue
To the sweetness of the day
With the promised rain
That forgot to fall today
Though the sky was grey
The roadworks spread happy noise
The smell lingers far
Tips me gently there’s no choice
I can’t book a car
Get the plane and swiftly fly
That familiar route
Just to see if I can buy
Some of earth to root
You would offer me a bed
Your diatic food
We would share, as you said
It could be so good
But it went the other way
You have found your peace
I don’t know what more to say
When I’m saying this..
Do I fear you, thank you,
or hate you for hanging round.
I fear I'd been somebody else
who stood on solid ground.
I thank you, cause you made me this,
but I hate the reasons why.
I fear it might just free my soul
when you finally say goodbye.
I hate you for staying here this long.
Thank you for being stable.
I fear the day you leave,
Kane's time, I'm not Abel.
Goodbye, it's time,
at least I hope,
I pray that you'll go quietly.
My greatest loss,
the quietest piece
the part that hopes you'll fight me.
I’ll say this truth,
Là Je M’amuse,
I feel it’s almost over.
That murder smile,
the haunting fact
a grin that’s Grimm, all over.
Absurd to see
to sink so deep,
and disappearing tears.
That day and night unfiltered rot
goodbye, forever, cheers.
Historically the books are written by a well-known writer
The characters are formed to choose the sense of flight or fighter
The library of the mind stows away the facts from the fiction
The sequence of events unfold, memorised with restriction
The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry
The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by
The imagery of barricades in a crowded stark front room
Foreboding silence and tension create a sense of doom
In the old terraced house, there’s a closure of ranks
As the fighter steps forward and the other flanks
The pushing and shoving in the silent stark room
The circle decreases and a flash warps the plume
The memories jagged as they cut like a knife
As she’s hit by the boxer and fights for her life
The dry autumnal street carpets red and gold
The crunch of the leaves cushioned the blow
The flash of the memory vivid and sharp
Innocence held with such disregard
The nature of the story, can cause the mind to cry
The loss of peaceful innocence in those days gone by
Toils and brawls hit hard herebelow
Till poetry and its bliss are forgotten;
Till the joys of rhyme totter battered
By thrusts of a world foul and rotten.
But when the last of blows
The versifier's nose all wet
Has left in crimson sutures,
This quill shall scribble yet.
Evening shades are deepening
Peaceful hues and tones
In the darkness creeping
There’s a silence in the stones
Anonymous lies sleeping
Psalms praising the unknown
Heaven holds thee in its keeping
Sings the silence of the stones.
It's not about the date of your death,
your emptiness is all around.
Life is going on its flow,
but the heart is not rhythmic with the same old sound.
When a string breaks,
though others can play sound,
but it's no longer the same,
the old tunes are never be found.
It's not about the date of your death,
dear, your emptiness is all around.
ELEGY TO AN ADDICT
To love a pill,
is this life today?
Popping up happiness,
downing it away.
God in a needle,
lift yourself higher.
Killing the seed
of sexual desires.
Dear, Mary Jane,
where have you been?
Couldn't fine ya,
now, I'm stuck on heroin.
How in the hell
did I get in this fix?
Heroin for breakfast,
heroin for kicks.
All the pills
have drifted away.
The needle's more
of my life today.
When I die there will be no stone or grave
Look at my art, read a poem, be brave
Do not worry about me, I will be recycled soon
I am in the stars, the air, the trees, breeze and the moon.
Dying is the beginning of our real life.
I will be free to zoom and dance and have no strife.
When I go, know I will be watching you forever more.
For I am your mama, and you I do adore.
ELEGY TO AN ADDICT
To love a pill, is this life today?
Popping up happiness, downing it away.
God in a needle, lift yourself higher.
Killing the seed of sexual desires.
How in the hell did I get in this fix?
Heroin for breakfast, heroin for kicks.
All the pills have drifted away.
Heroin took my life away.
Uncovering a way back from suicide was not easy at all,
but I had saved me from the great fall.
Death of my beloved had given me perpetual pain.
I had tried to quit my life, as without him I never dreamt to sustain.
But my verses never permit me to die.
Never permit me to lose, rather divert me from cry.
All of my pain now the ink of my pen.
Now I have nothing to lose, rather the whole world to gain.
One day I've to stop too and there will be no ink in my mortal pen,
but within my compositions, I will ever remain.
I'm still a captive of memory.
It's like I am re-reading an ancient diary.
That decade-old loss still haunts me,
in my dream every night I see
that I am losing thee.
But you have already gone
to the unknown.
And I'm still here, can't flee.
Your absence still hurt me.
Your love is still as fresh as a new day,
still as firm as the Sun.
I am nourishing it still,
I will die with it may!
I can't convey, I can't say.
The only thing I can do is,
I can write with my whole heart,
that's my way
to continue this life of dismay.
No new wound can ever hurt me,
as your absence gnaw me.
I don't know when this nightmare will stop chasing me!
When I will stop seeing that,
I am getting back you every night in my dream and losing thee!
I'm still a captive of my old favorite memory.
Which I am re-reading,
into which I'm re-living,
like a drunk, still addicted to thee.
Don't know when I can move on
when I will be succeeded to flee!
Still a captive of your memory.
I keep talking to you every day,
& never get bored by hearing you.
I keep laughing at your every joke
while teasing each other through.
I keep scolding you like,
"not a little work is done by you?"
You keep scolding me like,
"what will I do with this silly girl,
a little, angry baby of me,
without me how will you make your survival?"
Your baby girl has grown up all of a sudden,
now she doesn't show anger often.
Your absence makes her very mature.
Now here is no sign of that pampered,
no sign of that immature.
Now she can walk alone.
Now she knows how to wake up on her own.
Now she wakes up all of a sudden,
doesn't wait for the warm kiss to make her awaken.
Doesn't wait for the constant alarm of yours,
but wakes up smilingly after wiping those tears,
which only pillow knows.
This long one year without you
though sometimes was unbearable,
but sometimes I feel like I'm with you.
Though you have gone to the unknown,
years before;
But I never adieu.
And still, my bedsheet smells like you.
churchyard hold bones buried from his days,
church register has records of their names,
yew trees shade the yard to shield them from rains,
near St.Giles church lies buried Thomas Gray,
buried next his mother, aunt hold him close,
hamlet Stoke Poges where he used to pray,
Elegy he wrote grieving his dear friend,
epitaphs erased, know not what they say,
how fire of a great poet time tames!
to shield them from rains, yew trees shade the yard,
to pay him homage I stopped on the way!
3rd placement
abracadabra
10syllables each line
a rhymes day, Gray,pray, say, way
b rhymes names, tames
r lines 3rd line and 10th lines - reverse rhyme!
Written 22/03/2021
ABRACADABRA March poetry competition
William Kekaula sponsored
World War II vet, aged one hundred,
once risked his life for his mother land.
His country in a Covid war,
he once again lent them a hand.
Once youthful legs now needing aid
of walkers, this Thomas Moore did give
the battle-strength he still possessed,
so that Covid patients might live.
One hundred laps around his yard
with his walker, he raised some funds,
about thirty-three million pounds
for patients. The whole world was stunned!
Knighted by Queen Elizabeth,
to his name was added “Sir”.
He and the Queen, standing in sun,
knew not what would later occur.
Screaming mobs of anti-maskers
in America and beyond,
spewed bursts of droplets everywhere,
so Covid could never get gone.
It flew and hitch-hiked everywhere,
invaded the home of Sir Tom,
conquering his warrior grit,
killing him just like a bomb.
These people still start such riots,
not believing they really slay
people like our Sir Thomas Moore.
Yet they’ll never be made to pay.
ARDINGLY ELEGY
The clock tower tolls the passing of the day
The bleating flock wends home neath darkening sky
The Judges homeward plod their weary way
And leave the world in peace at Ardingly
Beyond from the madding contests’ noble strife
Their preferences no longer put asunder on
Reworking judgements that were given life
The ghosts of jurists sit in shadowed UNDER*
Across the world the living spirits go
To lands deprived of custard on their pie
Gone from the halls up under and below
May they again return to Ardingly
The faithful Leaders' bright young teams have gone
Far from the English contest's hue and cry
When spring once more brings us a brighter dawn
May they at heart return to Ardingly
Now all the shepherds and the human flock
Time no more measured by the tolling clock
When frosty sheen still paints the cricket field
And yet the buds burst green on sylvan high
May then also returned to Ardingly.