Most Commented Quatrain Poems (302)

The pops and creaks and grunts and groans,
Are caused by my condition.
Arthritis, not old age, you see,
Puts me in this position.

Still young of heart and mind I am.
With wild imagination.
Just aching joints spread here and there,
That cause me irritation.

I try hard not to let it show,
This awful aching pain.
But if perhaps you catch a wince,
Arthritis once again.

I do some carpentry at times,
Some painting and some plumbing.
Each take their toll, my body pays,
Just wishing for some numbing.

But work I must, so off I go,
Into the breech once more.
Just take it slow and carefully,
As I go out the door.

There's some folks seem to understand,
And some who never can.
They think my pain a weakness so,
Think me a lesser man.

I hope one day they find a cure,
To end this woeful mess.
But until then, I'm what you see,
In pain and under stress.

Don't get me wrong, I can't complain,
There's others facing more.
I wish them well, a healing wish,
Their wholeness to restore.

You're not set, your will is free,
You can be who you wish to be,
Because the future is, you see,
A cloud of possibility.

Each fork come to in the road,
Might change your methods or your mode,
And forks just like genetic code,
Have branches with their leaves abode.

Left or right, fair maid, cat,
These cusps to make decisions at,
Crooked lines, this way and that,
Determines where we'll hang our hat.

Hang your hat up in the air,
And rise to meet it hanging there,
Float around in this headwear,
Let it take you anywhere.

When you tire of floatin' 'round,
Just come back where your home is found,
Plant your feet on solid ground,
And tell us all the things you've found.

The meaning of T’day has transcended
from its beginning: our sharing together
with indigenous people who innocently gave
in times of sickness and chilling weather.

From those days when we readily took
from them all of which they shared
while ’round the table of community we
partook of the meal that was prepared.

To their trusting welcome, we replied
with greed and want of possession
so much so that by force we took much
of their lands with egregious aggression.

Throughout the years this did continue,
this giving then taking back more,
until with little reservation they live
with minuscule resources left in store.

Dispersed amidst the clatter of our laws
with pride, strength, resilience, determination
First People have sought legal ways to
reclaim some of what was once their nation.

On this day, may we celebrate Thanksgiving,
by learning to judge our wealth by care—
not by what and how much we own—and
take steps toward a world we all can share.

Last year expired to sounds of Auld Lang Syne,
The bells of Christmas past are heard no more,
A 'New Year Toast' is raised with mulled red wine,
Before December bills come through the door.

New resolutions made with fervent mind,
So sadly most are destined not to last,
And in such broken promises you'll find,
A mirrored image of a failed year passed .

Act kindly to a pauper on the street,
Is all your spare cash for the bargain sales ?
Give help to some old pensioner you meet,
Or will it be another of your fails ?

Though '21 it was a trying year,
We must dig deep...for coping skills to delve,
Farewell old year, I doubt we'll shed a tear,
I couldn't wait to hear the clock strike twelve.

I send you all good tidings with fine cheer,
Straight from the Em'rald Isle across the miles,
May all your Covid worries disappear,
And future frowns may all revert to smiles.

Clear sky of blue and clouds of white
Bathed by sunshine above
Create such a beautiful sight
Instilling feelings of love

Lighting up the greenery below
Of the trees, grasses and plants
Giving them an enchanting glow
Setting the stage for romance

The ripples on the nearby lake
Stirred up by a gentle breeze
Invite the viewer to partake
With feelings of peace and ease

Such samples of Nature's nectar
Are free to each one of us
We are all a part of Nature
and Nature is part of us

Fluffy white clouds floating up in the sky
Against a background of celestial blue
Changing their shapes as they meander by
Creating a most magnificent view

The moving shapes are edged with wisps of mist
As they sail on unhurriedly on high
Coruscating in their milky whiteness
Against a brilliant sunshine lighted sky

On a frosty Winter's evening,
In a haunting moonlight glare,
I remembered perished loved ones,
With a solemn silent prayer.

There the flickers of the firelight,
Cast live shadows on the gloom,
Like the ghosts of souls departed,
Came alive within the room.

I could sence parental spirits,
Place their marble hands in mine,
As they coaxed me from the armchair,
Up to waltz with them entwined.

Yet although their steps were silent,
And they spoke with soundless air,
Their warm aura was a blessing,
Of which I was unaware.

For their lives on earth weren't easy,
In those woeful days of yore,
Yet together lived contented,
Through the suffering they bore.

Hope and gratitude they gifted,
All my worries were benign,
As the two kind hearted spectres,
Soon returned to the divine.

With the dying of the embers,
Came our parting bittersweet,
As the fading of the shadows,
Were their spirits in retreat

They bestowed a saintly message,
Scribed in smoke upon the wall,
" Always pray for fallen angels,
And no harm shall you befall."

Now it's lonesome by the fireside,
On the floor.. a teardrop stain,
And I pray my kindred guardians,
Will return to dance again.

In Swat valley in Northern Pakistan
Malala, a young female teenager
Stood against the might of the Taliban
And earned the respect of those who knew her

She opposed their girls' education ban
And spread the issue all over the world
This enraged the terrorist Taliban
Who were determined to silence this girl

They sent an assassin to murder her
And he shot a bullet right through her head
But she proved to be a tough survivor
And became even more vocal instead

For her courage and heroic action
She earned the award of a Nobel prize
This defiant female from Pakistan
Became an idol in everyone's eyes

People say, Pop back like a rubber band.
Do you understand what’s meant by this demand?
With too much stretch, rubber bands disintegrate;
as do I, with too much piled upon my plate.

One needs something that can take the heat
from baking life’s oft’ challenging “treats”
to deal with its long-term-storage stuff
and does not break when things get too rough.

More than these magic bands that come dyed
colors, can be frozen or deep-fried
is friendship and love the heart can glean
from the hand that extends, felt, not seen.

I think in some past lives, I was a girl,
Swept down that river - Sacred Feminine;-
And like the shell which once contained a pearl,
Was washed by Time, and freed of all my sin.

Some men say I am hard - and others strange,
They do not know the half of it I say;-
Great Cosmic Engine, where atoms re-arrange,
And Energies disperse and go their Way.

Many times re-born, and died, great wheel of Time;-
That spins the stars around - great light of day,
And when it's night, those stars begin their climb,
To shower Earth and Heaven with each ray.

I feel echo of past lives, which once were mine;-
Feel the sense of some great Eternity;-
I feel it as my pen construes this rhyme,
Made of stardust from some distant Galaxy.

I feel it when I meet a lady's eyes,
(I'm happy in the body I'm in now);-
Although it never comes as a surprise;-
To feel afresh, what I already know.


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