Sports Quatrain Poems | Examples

These Sports Quatrain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Sports. These are the best examples of Quatrain Sports poems written by international poets.


Premium MemberAbility And Desire

Ability And Desire Miracle Man 3/15/2024 When in his youth he was filled with desires, now sometimes his age causes him to digress. To do youthful things he no longer aspires, but today his thoughts are difficult to express. He was big in sports, and liked to hunt and fish, a military career he should have been eschewing. Now he visits his past able only to wish, while he was away missing years were accruing. For a friend
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.


Premium MemberPoetry In Motion Contest Cricket

April and the clocks forward spring,
our cricket practice gets in full swing.
Nets to untangle from their poles,
players to call and enrol.

Gang mowers to grease and oil,
the team kit-bag to disembroil.
Green stained pads to whiten bright,
fixture lists to expedite.

Mend the sight screen's rickety panels,
coax another season from my flannels.
Wash and iron the umpire's coats,
the score-box to creosote.

Tea urns to scour,crockery to rinse and clean..
a team captain's tasks routine,and unseen.
Cricketers good,indifferent,unsung,
across this land in a timeless sport played for fun.

Premium MemberIf Romeo and Juliet Had Survived

I was warned about you lazy Montagues Some Romeo you turned out to be! You’re so flabby you can’t see your own shoes Where for art thou? Watching sports on TV! Enough, Juliet, you’ve turned into your mother With your nagging, complaining, and ceaseless spending All you Capulet women just hover and smother How I yearn for Shakespeare’s grand ending! 10/13/22
Middle-aged crisis is one topic which William Shakespeare stayed away from.

Premium MemberBoo Hoo Lincoln

Boo Hoo Lincoln Miracle Man 7-4-2022 Today Lincoln Riley might be missing O.U., for the ship he jumped to is going big time too. His wish was to be a big fish in a small tank, but in the big 10 he’ll walk the gang plank. He showed his true character in the way he left, taking players and coaches was next to theft. But everything has a payday or so they say, I wonder if Southern Cal he will also betray?
© Tom Wright  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberFun: Balls

If nobody knew the meaning of ball,
Air in a bladder of skin, 
If nobody knew the sound on the ground,
The turn or the lift or the spin,

Then people wouldn't walk the green back and forth,
Wouldn't aim for over a net,
Wouldn't know about scrummage, ruck, maul or try,
Wouldn't use words like love, deuce and set,

And i think folks would laugh at the simple idea,
The primitive notion, the thought,
That teams of men could attack one another,
Then stand up and call it a sport,

But then again, no, the ball has a use,
It replaces the dead with a score,
The ball of choice, whatever the size,
It's probably stopped a small war.


Premium MemberFun: I Love Her Black Eye

I always thought she looked beautiful, 
In the morning before the blame,
When she’d smile at those around the office, 
She’d smile right through the pain,

And colleagues and mates and other staff, 
Would compare her eye to wine,
The blackest wine you could buy, 
The “Walked into the door again” kind,

But her smile put away any doubts, 
Her smile didn’t match the hurt,
Her smile seemed to justify the shade, 
Every time before we learnt,

She scored the winning goal again,
In the weekend bash and smash,
And her team she played and fought beside,
Her team had won the match.

Premium MemberToo Young To Get Old

I'm really much too young to get old Something's drastically out of whack I'm still this handsome, charismatic stud Why's my body giving me flack? A strange bump just formed on my neck Don't think it was there yesterday My hair seems a bit thinner and greyer But I'm still young in all other ways My body is falling apart, bit by bit Takes me an hour to put on my pants I wheeze while watching sports on TV My wife never asks me to dance There must be a pill old geezers can take To slow down this aging tommyrot I'm not ready yet for an old folks home I feel like I'm still pretty hot This can't be, I'm much too young To say 'uncle' and throw in the towel Gonna fight like hell and never give up If only I could control my bowels!
age

Premium MemberOlympic Rainbows

OLYMPIC RAINBOWS

The archway welcomes us into its light —
A flame burning bright the timeless torch.
The crowds they cheer upcoming sport
Watching the dot matrix from their porch.

Each team with t-shirt bonds, prepare to climb,
Grab hold of rapunzel braid in the sunny-rain.
An olympic treat - the first to ascend in race.
The creation of this event was deemed insane.

Like conquering Everest, they climb with fortitude.
Each teammate significant - none must fail their part.
Two team’s chosen seven strong - their country’s best.
Follow Up one’s victory - four teams prize a double manifest.

10/24/2018
Craig Cornish’s Rainbows Poetry Contest

Premium MemberThe Luge

One point three      k’s of drama, 
An insane and crazy slide,
One point three      k’s of focus, 
On the fateful ride,

Down the face of the mountainside, 
With twists and turns from hell,
Down toward the half way point, 
Where you hear the bell,

And then you hit about one-twenty, 
K’s per hour on ice,
About one-twenty on the thinnest board, 
Balancing on a slice,

As you power your luge in freefall, 
On a one in ten drop descend,
At these Korean Winter Olympics, 
Heading toward the end.

Premium MemberElite Love

What would it be like to be the elite,
To walk around on the top?
To be the one all the people look to, 
To be the cream of the crop?

Would I feel important within my own self, 
Would I feel like it and a bit?
Would I feel like I could never do wrong, 
Would I feel like some hypocrite?

Because I’d know, deep down, in my little mind, 
That my thinking is still a bit plain,
That the thing I am good at is only for show, 
And my life is all a bit vain,

And even though I excel at running real fast, 
Or catching a ball with a glove,
I think I would feel the need for real joy, 
For emotionally belonging, for love.

Premium MemberSports

Sports, sports, 
I love sports
About as much
As venereal warts.

Premium MemberTwo In a Row

The game headed into the final set
    As the weary warrior stepped up to serve
     If he won, it would be an upset
       But he was just a bundle of nerves

 His opponent  was calmer overall
   As his experience he did exalt
    The player then served the ball...
       The umpire shouted .."Fault!"

 The crowd let out a gasp at this
   Hoping he would not repeat
    But the second serve he did miss
      He suffered the "agony of defeat"

 5/13/17
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Premium MemberDear Sport People

Dear sport people, folks who love to hit and kick balls, 
You and I are different in so many ways.
I don’t need cheering applause, awards for doing my job, 
I don’t need a glorified praise.

I do the best that I can, and do it every day, 
Silently, productively, I complete my vocation.
While you do what you do, demand more than your worth,
And expect complete adulation.

Every day I grow your fresh food, or invent new vaccines, 
Or defend humans on the front line.
Whilst sport people, you think that you’re above all of that, 
Thinking you are some sort of divine.

Dear sport people, I don’t play school yard games, 
I don’t play stupid games at all when I’m at work.
If I did then I’d be shunned, I’d be shunned and then fired,
I don’t play games because I’m not a jerk.

Premium MemberThese Massive Men All Love Me

He holds me so lightly, as if I’m so fragile, 
As he balances me deftly on the mound.
He then takes a step back, waits for the whistle, 
Then kicks me from off of the ground.

And then it starts, an hour of running, tackling and fighting, 
An hour of catch, run and pass.
They all want me, they’re mad and insane, 
Colossal tanks dive on me when I lay on the grass.

These men, they’re huge, muscles on muscles, 
They run at each other like they’ve lost control.
And then, when they stop to exalt with a score, 
They kick me, in the guts again, for a goal.

They must all love me though, they hug me so tight,
And protect me with all of their brawn.
At least until the end of the game that is,
When they leave me alone on the lawn.

Premium MemberOur Own Little Oasis

Aww love sweet love, is there anything finer Than to snuggle and cuddle and coo Don't need to be coherent or form real words Your moaning will create the mood You actually could be quoting last night's results Of the latest big time sports events Could even be reporting on a horrendous fire Or a country impeaching a president In the midst of each torrid lovemaking session All else really becomes quite secondary Until that big moment, that moment so sublime And it ends up as anything but ordinary Now this is reality, have I tried to kid you before When it comes right down to the basics Everything's about satisfying our personal pleasures And creating our own little oasis © Jack Ellison 2014

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