Long Quintain (english) Poems
Long Quintain (english) Poems. Below are the most popular long Quintain (english) by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Quintain (english) poems by poem length and keyword.
Nip my nose! Pound at my core!
I’ll frame a warm blanket ‘round thighs and toes.
Decorate with icicles door-to-door!
My darling and me, nuzzling like eskimos.
Together we can take anything that Winter throws.
Throw a softball of snow my way
and I will merrily call in the snowmen brigade.
They come armed with carrots and stones…olé!
Dear Winter, who will come to your aid?
I shiver! I’m afraid!
Forget about that, I’ll take a nice sleigh ride
down a glistening hill,
with my honey-bear by my side.
With speed bumps, it’s quite a thrill.
Please Winter, don’t set out to kill.
Bitty flakes on my lashes, shoulders; I shake.
My sweetheart will take off my scarf, coat and boots.
So warm by the hearth, we’ll not soon awake.
Before that…we drink cocoa, eat cake with dried fruits.
We will dream of you, Old Man Winter and your pursuits.
12/14/2021
Our pet dog is a home member indeed
She’s part of the family we truly care
As we meet her belongingness need
Providing good things God wants us to share...
Most of all, is our concern for her life* and welfare.
We call her Alelli; oh, she likes her name
Responding to us with delightful zest
While actively playing her favorite game
Showing us wondrous tricks with her best...
Yes, she joins us in our prayer for all to be blest.
*Proverbs 12:10 A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast: but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel.
January 13, 2025
3rd place, "Animals" Quintain (English) Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 1/21/2025
A mother with a baby boy
Another child now on its way
A husband who pledged love~a ploy
Slips with the adulteress away
Adulteress' husband comes home; their dismay
Caught, well, almost; that playboy
Slithered out the window unclothed
No way to escape; life will destroy
Trapped naked outside unabashed
Lied, lied his friend's reputation trashed
Written: June 25, 2016
Contest: Sweet Little Lies
Sponsor: Silent One
The husband went to the house
next door/ Got the person there
to call his friend to come get
him..His friend took him(the husband) to
the husband's mother's house..The mother
went to her son's house to
get him more clothes. The
husband told his wife that
his friend was caught with another
woman and he(the husband) had
to rescue him by bringing to his mother's
house and get him clothes..Yeah!!
Right!! Who believes that one???
I am no saint at all, but still I think my good
outweighs my bad. These are some gifts God gave to me:
Loyalty, resilience, and tolerance (many trials I have withstood).
I’m conscientious, and I have the nice ability
to hear and understand. Bearing no grudge, I forgive most easily.
The bad in me I also can easily confess.
I value my alone time, so never will you see me crowned
with glory for much service work; in fact, my laziness
extends to my own housework. Lastly, I let myself get pushed around,
so there are times I really wish that I had stood my ground.
A neighbor once observed me when I was very small.
She told my mom, “That child’s special.” Mother thought so too.
Hearing this repeatedly gave me the wherewithal
to persevere and be consistent, always striving to be true
to who I am; I hope it shows in things I say and do.
2/28/2020
New Year 2017
Two-thousand-seventeen, a brand new year;
sheet one of twelve to see upon the wall.
Pristine it hangs, no scribbles...each page clear;
fresh new start, a slate wiped clean of scrawl.
Time to breathe, set new plans both big and small.
One whole year, so many days to get things done;
lots of time...do not rush, haste does make waste.
Surely, days will pass unused and one by one,
the pages fly right off the wall, replaced
by some regrets no challenges were faced.
Yet, I will see Earth’s seasons come and go
and feel the surge of Spring’s rebirthing rite;
the Summer sun and flowers, the Autumn glow,
then Winter wonderland of snow so white.
This year will be another gift of life’s delight.
Sandra M. Haight
~2nd Place~
Contest: Welcome 2017
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Judged: 01/07/2017
Sunrise on Swift Creek starts a new day
The sun is etching magenta 'pon a misty sky
And fog settling low 'pon the ground will stay
Changing in the sky a red giant ball shows its dye
I wonder if old saying will come true and I sigh
Mankind hasn't made much of an arising yet
Down where lilacs once bloomed in years gone by
But doves awaken from slumber still sing my pet
They cajole weary whip-poor-will where sun and earth edify
To settle in the brush and quietly lie
Down where fuchsia crepe myrtle blooms are open
Enjoying the heat of end of a summer's day
There's beauty against even the coyotes' den
As turmoil goes on, guitar music stops, places decay
Dear Lord, let me praise You, and constantly pray
America, once free and strong,
you now are weak and it won't be long,
before you crumble from within,
unless you turn from grievous sin.
Lord, save this nation, make it great again.
God has been banished from our schools,
while society creates its own rules.
What's right is wrong, what's wrong is right,
and Satan is laughing with delight.
Lord, save this nation from its plight.
Corrupt leaders are in control.
They have no heart, they have no soul.
Our freedoms they're trying to steal away,
and we, like lambs, are led astray.
Lord, save this nation is what I pray.
Hatred and violence are on the rise.
Terrorists are plotting our demise.
Natural disasters have multiplied.
We need the Savior on our side.
Lord, save this nation from foolish pride.
God's word is clear, we must repent,
and turn away from evil intent.
We must embrace our Savior, Jesus,
then God will grant us favor and forgive us.
Lord, save this nation and restore us.
II Chronicles 7:14
7/2/16
(saw a mistake with a rhyme and just now revised this)
I’m on a Greyhound bus – six hours till dawn
It’s late and dark. I think that I must be
the only passenger whose light is on.
I’ll keep that tiny light trained down on me
because I want to write some poetry!
Are people sleeping on this late night ride?
Perhaps, but I will still keep on my light.
There’s little talking; maybe some folks bide
their time while looking out onto the night.
Not I! I take delight in time to write.
Aug 5, 2019 for Janice Canerdy's English Quintain Poetry Contest
written 8/2/19 after midnight in Iambic Pentameter
October sunbeams, inking Autumn trees,
edge their leaves with ribbons of molten gold.
And raining confetti with every breeze,
rivulets of scarlet and cerise flow,
letting streams of color flood the landscape.
And as gilded leaves weave a golden fleece,
yellow gets added to Fall's ticker tape,
as Autumn's pageant begins to take shape.
Crimson embers flare into orange flames,
incinerating all traces of green.
And living up to the hype Autumn claims,
chartreuse and puce pigments dapple the scene,
and the air smells earthy, yet crisp and clean.
As Nature heralds Winter's arrival;
the jack-o'-lanterns end up in the trash.
The barren fields await spring's revival,
Songbirds fly south, while squirrels hide their stash.
And bears hibernate for their survival
amongst sugar maples and mountain ash,
where vermilion and amber motifs clash.
The delicious odor of home-baked bread
instantly takes me to mum's kitchen door,
I'm in heaven, though not a word is said.
Kneading the dough, she'd punch it down once more,
calling for three risings, she'd give it four.
I can never resist that fresh-baked smell,
just one whiff and once more, I'm a small boy,
there's no smell like it; I could always tell.
It's forever linked to a time of joy,
a nostalgic quirk, memories employ.
The instant its unique aromas waft
up my nostrils, with that heavenly scent,
I envision my mum's hugs, firm yet soft.
Going to the bakery's an event
that brings back flashes of mom's French accent.
(English- Quintain)
2/18/2018