Short Roundel Poems
Short Roundel Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short Roundel poems by PoetrySoup poets. Search the short Roundel poetry form by poem length and keyword.
economic
fear overwhelms hearts with distress.
economic
boom--congress promise the public.
yet their debates often digress
to issues that are rather less
economic.
Poetry in motion,
Is more than a notion,
Is more than a quotation.
Poetry in motion,
Is for more than one nation,
Is for more than one situation.
Poetry in motion,
Is quite an inspiration,
Is quite a realisation.
You should not fear,
though their brawls are so unyielding.
You should not fear,
though the deadline is very near.
Congress will raise the debt ceiling,
despite your skeptical feeling.
You should not fear.
**Roundelet contest (CORRECTED WITH NEW RULES)
I am
I am
the source
the source
of all
your
need
yesh u a
yesh u a
in
deed
**Jesus the head(source)of all in His church,mariage and family.
We climbed the fence
but I must say
in our defense
it seemed a good idea
but on that day
childhood’s pretense
said “it’s only play”
a dog immense
not trained to stay
reinstated common sense
it had seemed a good idea
©3/1/2019
Writing Challenge, Feb 2019, Roundel Form – Poetry Contest
Dear Heart - sponsor
Red moon rising scanning below
Seeing all, keeping secrets close
Nothing in the night it won't know
Red moon rising
In a haze just slightly morose
To caws of a lone calling crow
Clouds sweeping to briefly engross
Hue in the sky of a fire show
Giving lookers an eerie dose
Wonders along with eyes to grow
Red moon rising
Lose antennae? I’m a beetle!
Not one bug in Aleghenny
(at least, none you’ll ever meet’ll)
lose antennae.
Luck with chicks? I won’t have any!
Directionless, centripetal,
wireless wimps are ten a penny!
What now? Curl up? Adopt the foetal
position? Move to Kilkenny?
No proud pest in any street’ll
lose antennae.
On the sharp side of a raindrop
I felt the ice as I fell through
The deceiving of a cloud top
On the sharp side
Not fragile in the midst of blue
This toiling hailstorm workshop
A sudden jarring breath I drew
Yet places I would never swap
Plunging toward the earth, I knew
It’s not here me or rain will stop
On the sharp side
Out my window, just out of reach
Where I can see but cannot go
Wanting to learn from what will teach
Out my window
Through panes of glass no pain to show
The other side so close to breach
When it opens, one day I'll go
Outside a forest, sky or beach
Soon I can be there toe to toe
Swap my reflection I beseech
Out my window
Who am I to whine and complain
About things I cannot change,
Nor think ill of those who obtain
Who am I?
I must admit I find it strange
Some do not hesitate to cause pain
To others, I think, in exchange
For personal and political gain.
I find other’s lives I cannot arrange
So think of them having only half a brain.
Who am I?
To be so rich that we can buy
whatever we desire to
They'll envy us, who just scrape by
To be so rich...
We'll lust and love, just me and you
What need our souls to edify
With pleasure's bliss, our rendezvous...
Do I detect a faint soft cry
of prayer unread from empty pew
The profligate sure mocks life's why
To be so rich...
God Hung in our sky a circle of fire,
And an orb the color of a pearl
For us to admire.
God Hung in our sky
Clouds to add to our colorful world
Which I aspire
To understand how God has each in its own whorl.
It wasn't in its entire
Until God added the stars to the twirl
They added the sparkling attire
To what God Hung in our sky.
The artist paints. Resplendent scene.
On a mirror of liquid gold,
Swims the regal swans so serene.
The artist paints.
A new story is to unfold,
Sun joins the sea with a glazed sheen.
Nature is a sight to behold.
The golden orb, no longer seen.
Art shows twilight's colors so bold.
Brightly vivid and ever keen.
The artist paints.
Carousel inn on highest peak,
Round and round they quickly spin,
Beacon invites as we speak,
Carousel inn.
Tent for a carousal din,
Memories lost they seek,
Floating feets under Natures basin,
Festive aura sound and reek.
Flying with the spinning wind,
Emotions fast and thick,
Carousel inn.
by Danesh Morgan
on 3th August 2013
A lovely vision in a bonnet
Her golden braids a-dangling down
Her rosy cheek with dimple on it
The fairest maiden I have found
Her slender waist, my hand upon it
Devoted to her beauty bound
A lovely vision...
If this tiara, she would don it
The populace would raise a sound
Proclaim her queen of verse and sonnets
A lovely vision
I dream of a house, near the stream
deep in forest, with deers and bees
wavering through wildflower regime
evening whispers a rustling breeze.
with mystic clouds drowning moonbeams,
in avenue of verdant trees-
I dream of a house
on a hill, a castle supreme,
warm fireplace, lullaby appease
till the coffin ends self esteem,
I dream of a house.
I'm born to kill. My name betrays
brutality in each grim ton.
I'm all my moniker portrays.
I'm born to kill.
But can I stop what I've begun
as my great appetite obeys
a blood urge? Can it be undone?
Will once I learn to change my ways?
Will I break through to see the sun,
so, my genes won't say all my days -
I'm born to kill?
Image 5
Image : 3
In water dark, I learn to drown
A silence colder than the sea
The ghosts I fled still pull me up
In water dark
He haunts the edge where I should be
A memory I never chose
Still carves his name inside of me
He finds me gasping, cold, stripped bare
Each time I hide, he leaves a mark
I bleed unseen in wounded air
In water dark
I sat upon a stair
and saw a little man;
he smiled, but oozed despair.
A sad and lonely guy.
I didn't like to stare.
I waited for my gran,
and hugged my teddy bear.
He said it wasn't fair;
it didn't go to plan...
and then he wasn't there...
A sad and lonely guy.
A childhood memory, written 13th Feb for Constance's roundel contest
The things I do for what I love;
Passion has left its residue,
a shine I cannot get rid of;
The things I do;
Staring wide eyed at the preview
fiction could never script this stuff;
Believe me, the stories are true;
Hit my limit then I call it’s bluff
‘Do not enter’ I walk right through
Fine line is just not bent enough
The things I do.
It is a great joy to be united
Hearts held together without division
Full of grace and unlimited power
It is a great joy.
The reign of happiness void of tension
The sight of great minds greatly excited
Ready to obey in all submission.
Winning victories clean and unscathed
A mighty formidable men of valor
Laying off enemies' ground sighted
It is a great joy.
Let the mind games begin
Turning facts into fallacies, urgh! What a mule
Good deeds? With evil grins
Ousting an honest man, and condemning his sins?
Bright minds unbecoming, using the press as a tool
Deceiving the masses, presuming we are fools
And yet you still go on, thinking you can win
Well then my friend,
Bring it on!
And let the mind games begin
Tasty morsels may swim by
I’ll just duck down and check it out
Instead, a big fish I do spy
Tasty morsels.
Although this looks like a brown trout
Or maybe it is a walleye
They’re far to big I have no doubt.
I’ll take a breath and then retry
If nothing’s there, I’ll go without
I hope I find with my keen eye
Tasty morsels
Image No 3.
Comeback-Shirley, starting early,
I'm the sparkle that teases night.
Worship, the Madonna baby!
Comeback-Shirley
Foam hair curlers set loose coils tight.
Strawberry cheeks, fans wish to see.
Appearances, tilt the glass right.
Put your sugar bowl out, missy.
The world shall call you its sunlight.
Stolen cradle, aren't you in glee?
Comeback-Shirley
The rising sun sets day apart
Night walks with us but not afar
Along the bridge, our gilded heart
The rising sun
Lacustrine swans flecked by Earth's star
Sail on soft waves, awaking art
Pen scuds to greet the morning tsar
Wings spread, light piercing breasts, a dart
Arrows of love breaking the bar
Scenes of tarry night doth depart
The rising sun