Short Quaver Poems
Short Quaver Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Quaver by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Quaver by length and keyword.
prism
quaver
pirouette
iridescent
blessed
spire
rose quartz
amethyst
fluidity
orb
gyre
topaz
naruto
ayurveda
strums
She didn’t play poker so well.
Her bluff was as clear as a bell.
Her insides would quaver
So much that they gave her
A hell of a smell of a tell.
Queenly green wings cover
Quivering red belly.
Quick to find holes in trees,
Quiet there for safety.
Quite vocal while mating,
Quaver slurred notes in songs.
Quaint bird of Mayan cult.
Love-
Walk a park?
Putrid fruits?
Butterflies- inferno?
None of the above
Frown, dear love.
Frown.
In love-twitch,
Twitch.
Quaver, Stutter
Unsound
Poetic lines, cherished love.
All That Was
That was shadow
that warmth on pink skin
your life your time
all that had been
your brilliance and flash
quanta of light
quaver of sound
struggle and fight
but now your photograph leaves
a mark on my wall
momentarily frozen
by the door in the hall
Oh lush flora, I watch its parade
Sashaying through woodland mead and glade;
How new blooms quaver…adorned with grace
That every trail rules this courtly place.
`~
Gregory R Barden's Rithimus Divisa Contest
Excerpt from Flora, 5/22/2018
Posted 9/28/2020
the prime sigh of the waning twilight
beetle larva gazes at the bright delight
waves of a sleek quaver in a fit sight
She soars towards the azure sky
morphs into the golden syllables
singing of a tawny moon
rouse the tangled yearnings of the soul
whispered hue of a jubilee soothing song
Written: May 28, 2022
Shaking like a leaf
Won’t make you a chief,
Never takes one to the top,
Never a popular prop;
Would rather one drop
And one’s mission flop …
Never for centuries A Lever,
Even slightly harms The Liver;
Therefore not a prize from its giver …
So, on no account whatsoever
Must your decisions waver
Nor at the sight of foes quaver
As neither is a saver
Nor you portray as clever.
my trembling fingers reaching outwardly
through the umbrage of shadows
longing to feel your touch
my heart quickens beneath forbidden thoughts
as i thrust myself forward
in the pulse of my dreams
the quaver of my lips part in silence
to the kiss of temptation
appetence unfulfilled
November 27,2019
Pick A Title, Vol 11 - Kimo(3 Stanzas) - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
A gentle hand upon my skin
To balm my sleeping soul within
A fragile brushing 'gainst my face
Adorns my soul with air and grace.
The kindest, mildest, tender touch
Subdues my soul to mind too much
The quaver of my joyful heart
As all my anguish blows apart.
And in the fluent light of morn
A freshness in my soul, reborn,
Where thoughts bygone, should I partake,
May kiss my brow as I awake.
Pipe me a tune I can dance to
Or play a lament, as of old.
And pipe you a song
Serenely and strong
For then, I will pay you in gold.
Pipe, at the early of morning
Just as the sun forces through.
Then stand you alone
And quaver your tone
For a sovereign, I'll offer to you.
Pipe, at the lull of the evening,
Play you the sweetest refrain.
As darkness is cast
You pipe you your last
For I shall not pay you again.
Actor Enacts
Banner Contracts
Censor Objects
Director Cuts
Editor Chucks
Grammar Pontificates
Hair-dresser Sets
Insurer Ensures
Jotter Notes
Kidnapper Attracts
Lover Sings
Murderer Kills
Narrator Describes
Oscar Signifies
Producer Promotes
Quaver Tones
Recorder Mixes
Singer Rhymes
Theater Plays
Utter Dialogues
Viewer Cries
Writer Thinks
X-Factor Denotes
Yodeller Yells
Zipper Closes
"but the show must go on"
Dedicated to Stuart A. Staples
I want to break someone's little finger
In three places
Give me strings on a hollow wooden body
Crumpled suits and apprehension
The warbler, the jongleur
The slur, the trill, the quaver
I can only serenade in that way
Without drop z tuning
Barmonies and mashed taters
Send in the French horn
Alone in the living room
The air conditioner remote
Engrossed and enthralled in the music
The dog watching me
Listen to poem:
This is to be,
a seed yet sown,
a deed yet done
a whisper on tongue
a kiss becoming
an echo sent
a gift bought
a line cast
a promise made
a wink of eye
a smile on lips
a touch on skin
fingers meet
a glint, a glimmer
a ripple, a quaver
orange glow at dawn
a breath of wind
a whiff of scent
footsteps
creak of gate
knock on door
hum of tune
distant bells
chimes of time
ticks, tocks of clocks
bird calls, howls
the smell of food
This is what can,
and is To Be.
with a crescent palm
held against his lips,
he sends a silver psalm
into the wind-
the timbre, so frail
sails through a crimson sky
then falls into the valley
a valley so low---
"hear the wind whisper,
hear the wind blow...
down through the valley,
where it must go"....
upward it goes
on a smooth silver thread
till the thin-quaver ends
where the red river flows
___________________________________
6/25/17 (Based on the song "Red River Valley")
A stream of music flows through my mind
Petals picked, torn, ripped, from a disc
I can’t remember the last time it’s been tuned
Do I remember how to hum with intent so quick?
Or can I continue with this stream of fabrication,
Sewing its way into stuck keys
All the notes felt of a familiar off white marrow
Though the harmony cannot squeeze,
Through something so narrow
I’m sorry for the confusion,
of a backwards quaver
With gentle consideration
I’ll allow our love to waiver
Oh lush flora, I watch its parade
Sashaying through woodland mead and glade;
How new blooms quaver…adorned with grace
That every trail rules this courtly place :
Lustrous the mural, the birdsongs swoon
A chant hailing rebirth of life's tune;
And peonies orange waft, awake
Their trimmings enthrall, how I would shake!
And never will this portrait be lost
When Maytime dreams are heavenly glossed!
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Written 05.22.2018
For Michelle Faulkner's Memories of May