Couplet poems. Read, find, and share examples of Couplet poems by international web poets. These are the most popular and best examples of couplet poems. See also Couplet Quotes.The following examples of Couplet poems illustrate what a Couplet poem looks like, and how they are constructed. The form or category is selected by the poet and thus may not be accurate.
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He is the king of words and poets alike
Assay as you may, this man you won’t smite
His armour sparkles in night or day
Defending those too meek to say
His table is round, there's room for all
There are chairs with wheels so no one will fall
He hands out bronze goblets with sparkling wine
This king of lush gardens has spine
Renowned through the kingdom, for deeds he’s done
There is no battle, he has not won
His knights are loyal to a fault
So you better beware who you assault
Lancelot and Guinevere are by his side
Uniting followers far and wide
So sit and drink with us in harmony
And enjoy food presented artfully
Oh little one, how soon you'll be
In turbulence of puberty.
I will hold tight your days of youth
And share with you my honest truth
That innocence ingrained at birth,
Precious childhood days filled with mirth,
Will be so fleeting... you will see
The need for God's tranquility.
How grandma's age is redefined
When your teen years become aligned
With thoughts of struggles I go through,
The many shades in every hue,
That colors life for me today.
In these sweet days I watch you play
As I instill the grains of hope,
An inner strength to help you cope
With all the changes life will bring.
The ups and downs from early spring
Throughout your life in winter years
When you, like me, through joys and tears
Have lived a life you feel has worth;
Have given back to better earth.
When you have children of your own
And you too, see how they have grown,
My hope is that you let them know
That through their life where e'er they go
They carry with them bits of me,
Please share with them, tranquility.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Poem of the Day May 11, 2017
The teenage years and the golden years are
the most difficult to endure. Both are fraught
with emotions...of facing life...of facing death.
Enter your own competition - Poetry Contest-Tranquility N/A
Form I have chosen is Couplet
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
One criterion I am striving to achieve: Spirituality
Connie Marcum Wong
Poor Peter Pumpkin had a very itty bitty head.
So the farmer made him stay inside the garden bed.
The farmer said that he was going to keep him warm with hay.
And there the itty bitty pumpkin stayed for many a day.
Finally, the farmer came to check upon poor Peter,
measured him and then exclaimed, “You’ve grown an extra meter!
I think it’s time for you to finally go and face the world.”
Peter got up from his bed. He twirled and twirled and twirled!
“My,” the farmer shouted, “You’ve grown two legs with feet!
You’re a special pumpkin. My daughters you must meet!”
Poor Peter heaved his hefty bulk, waddling away,
following behind the farmer so he would not stray.
They traveled rather quickly, and soon they reached the house.
The daughters saw the pumpkin and grew quiet as a mouse.
The silence lasted just until at last one daughter spoke,
“A pumpkin with two legs? Is this some kind of joke?”
Her father knelt beside her and whispered in her ear,
“Do not be afraid, my child. You’ve not a thing to fear.
We can carve a lantern. It will be your Halloween treat.
Then we can make lots of pumpkin pies for us to eat."
Peter trembled with a chill to hear their horrid plan.
Jumping out the door, he yelled, “Catch me if you can!”
He ran into the pastures. Then he tumbled down a hill.
As he rolled he bumped into the couple, Jack and Jill!
“Oh dear me,” cried Peter, “I do not wish to be
a lantern for this Halloween. Please, can you guys help me!”
Jack and Jill then led him to the land of Nursery Rhymes.
His sad fate has now been told to children many times.
For he ran across a man named Peter Pumpkin EATER.
Maybe you can guess now what became of our poor Peter!
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~
sublime my paintings, memory be
lost in time, I now must see
where once the gale winds trembled chill
wrapped in blankets, remember still
a touch, a kiss, the summer sun
from deep within, must now be spun
I frolic to and fro in time
my brush, alas..... can only mime
I still can hear cicadas' whine
but yearn for yellow celandine
tho memories fade, my spirit thrives
aflush! my paintings will survive!
James Marshall Goff
She briskly walks in January’s rain,
which drums the endless rhythm of her pain,
pulling closer round her shoulder in the downpour
the leather jacket he so often wore.
Another day like this she can remember
when he had worn the jacket, and against her
he’d pressed as they stood kissing in the rainfall.
The world could wash away; he was her all!
No storm could stop their loving as they raced
with great anticipation to his place.
Before they’d even reached the bedroom door,
they’d flung their rain-soaked clothes along the floor.
Underneath the sheets, though cold and wet,
they madly kissed. He was as passionate
as winter’s storm away from which they’d run,
and yet he warmed her like sweet summer’s sun!
She‘s almost home; the rain has nearly died.
She thinks of all the nights she lay and cried.
While thinking how the rainstorm’s cold still lingers,
inside the jacket’s pockets she moves her fingers.
In the lining of one pocket, her fingers meet
a crumpled piece of paper - an old receipt -
its date from when, without a word, he’d left their town
and in the city, by a drunk had got run down.
The piece of paper gives her now a revelation-
A high class jewelry store had been his destination.
He’d planned to ask her very soon to be his wife.
and bought a ring there on that last day of his life!
His parents gave his jacket to her, yet
she’d always guessed the worst for why he’d left.
What happened to the ring? She cannot know.
But now her tears with bitter sweetness flow.
For Silent One's 'Love for movie screens' Poetry Contest
Whether ocean or mountain with valley green
or every deep forest in between
My love for Nature fills my eyes
With every creature of Earth and sky
The changing hues on quiet display
From dawn's red light to twilight's gray
With moon that splays its beams so far
A match lit night from a shooting star
The sound heard from a wolf at night
An eagle's glide from feathered flight
The deepest footprints held in snow
And richest colors from a rainbow
Brilliant fire from Autumn leaves
Birth of Spring where nothing grieves
These wondrous things your eyes can see
As you sit below a bending tree
My inlaid heart from Nature's design
I'm another life on her fruited vine
3/13/17 Contest The Love of Nature
I'm still alive and I don't know why?
My heart survived falling from the butterfly sky
Caught by the hands of destiny
With visions only I can see!
My love I heard your call
Wings of a butterfly broke my fall
Love motion is in the air, a love no one can compare
Indulging a look-a-stare- that we both share
Reminiscing our love made out of stolen hope
Awe~:*! To them butterfly kisses that felt so real
Flowing like Amazing Grace,
A shining light upon my face.
I traveled fast and far, longing to be in your arms
I desire, the warm sensation of your charms
Your safe love will help me carry on,
With the strength and bond~the love you set upon
Nothing is better than a sensual butterfly kiss
Beyond the sensation of heaven's pure bliss
Fluttering in the clouds aiming for the moon
A dream of reality, out of my cocoon I bloom!
Valued by the art of true beauty and its rarity
True love flapping in the midst of clarity
I entwine that I am yours and you are mine
Bonded together till the end of time
With the vision, my heart is no longer blind
Two broken hearts at last combined
I glide below to touch your lip.
Our lashes touch from tip to tip.
Caressing each other as our wings expand
Two hearts- kisses collide and land
Holding your hand reaching to the rainbow sky.
Kisses:*kisses:* like the butterfly!
Dedicated to *My Babe*
Poet Destroyer A
The old man sat with eyes closed, dozing in his chair
Until a little voice he heard say “Grandpa, are you there”.
He gazed upon a little boy while waking from his nap
Then reached down with a sweeping move and placed him in his lap
The child was carrying a book that he wanted him to see
He held it up and asked him “Grandpa, will you read to me”?
The old man cleaned his glasses then opened up the book
And suddenly the two of them a wonderous journey took
They ventured lands so far away, sailed seas not sailed before
Met knights and kings and wizards on every distant shore.
Together they fought dragons, saved damsels in distress
Freeing lands of monsters and the treasures they possess
When the old man closed the cover to end their magic ride
He told the boy “We're much like books, what's important is inside”.
But one day when the boy arrived and rushed to Grandpas chair
Much to his disappointment, his Grandpa was not there
He ran to find his mother for surely she would know
Why the chair was empty, where did his Grandpa go
She sat him down and asked him if he remembered in each book
The adventures and the journeys that he and Grandpa took
He took you there to show you the things that you can find
The wonders that are yours to see if you open up your mind.
But he still walks beside you in the stories you have read
You're not left to go alone, he’s just gone on ahead
The child then went and chose a book and climbed up in the chair
And opening up the cover whispered “Grandpa, are you there”?
She is young and free, and most of her love lies in front of her
As the dawning twilight holds one breathless air under misted whispers
A sight she often looks beyond the vast land that always ends in the ocean
Upon the rocks driven by a seabreeze salted fragrance lingers
Waves and natural forces full of power draws upon sound and rhythm
Mixed echoes crying gulls rise and fall as they crash ringing home
To walk along the beach barefoot, she has time to be young
Reflecting back on each step forward petals of a sunbeam enters
Feeling divine happiness every second heartbeat without a special reason
Time begins to challenge the labours of the trodden path
Live it is to dare, nobody has gone in her step before
Standing upon the apex captivated by thought spiralling
Form a sculpture of wet sand, without being critical
Leaving an imprint under the shell where holds precious pearls
A way to expose oneself to something unfamiliar and unsafe
Petals of a flower dancing to a winds melody rings midnight bells
She dreams of love, with expectations and hope to be a queen
Under the starlight where a moon's cradle swoons her with a smile
A hand to hold, the first kiss ... a puzzling thought
Where memories are born a fire always burns regally sealed
A collaborated poem
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
It’s almost time and I must run
to watch/read Poetry Soap for fun.
It comes on every day at this time
and I don’t want to miss a single rhyme.
Some are about a long-lost lover
written by a secret poet undercover.
Some are about jealousy and some about trust
with rhyming lines filled with lust.
Competition is part of their game
with bards and musicians hiding their name.
They covet a prize and praise galore
laid at their feet and virtual door.
But when Poet A falls in love with Poet B
you can bet there’ll be flaming words from Poet C.
Or when Poet D gets Poem of the Day
Poet E will have something to say.
Sometimes it’s fun to read the rhymes of hate
whenever I can’t sleep and stay up late.
Battles of wits,
Poets who have fits,
Some who sing,
Some who sting.
Magical flights to lands of old
written with passion and pens of gold.
But it’s the humble ones I adore
whose words are pure, their egos left at the door.
Each episode an unending story
with poets and their pets seeking glory.
It’s addicting like dope.
I don’t want to miss today’s episode of Poetry Soap.
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
“All Rights Reserved”