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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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KING ARTHUR - A collaboration with Darren White

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

© White Wolf . All Rights Reserved.


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Tranquility

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.

9-17-2017
Note:
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
From I have chosen is Couplet
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer

One criterion I am striving to achieve: Spirituality 

© Connie Marcum Wong . All Rights Reserved.


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POOR PETER PUMPKIN

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!

10~12~14
Contest: Halloween Co-Writes
Sponsor: Diane Locksley
Written By Jan Allison & Andrea Dietrich
~awarded 1st place~

© JAN ALLISON . All Rights Reserved.


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The Old Painter

 
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 . All Rights Reserved.


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Revelation in the Rain

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 Skat's Epic Only Poetry Contest

© Andrea Dietrich . All Rights Reserved.


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Love of Nature

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

© Frederic Parker . All Rights Reserved.


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- Young Divine Happiness -



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 
08.06. 2017
(unrhymed couplets)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

© Sunshine Smile . All Rights Reserved.


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BUTTERFLY KISS

*BUTTERFLY KISS*

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 . All Rights Reserved.


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Grandpa

 


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”?

© Bob Quigley . All Rights Reserved.


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Humanity

If we don’t feel with our hearts, we don’t belong
If we don’t see as one, the world is wrong
Beyond the wars and the hate and the insanity
We are all connected as humanity
We are the child with cancer who still wears a smile
We are the kid from the projects facing trial
We are the pregnant teen feeling lost and used
We are the elderly man in a home abused
We are the young couple, marriage on the rocks
We are the homeless one in a cardboard box
We are the cold and hungry, sad and depressed
We are the lonely child who never felt blessed
We are the woman whose life was filled with pain
We are the man standing alone in the pouring rain
We are the child who struggles day to day
We are the teenage girl who ran away
We are the soldier killed in an unjust war
We are the young man who can dream no more
We are the inmate locked away for life
We are the old man who has lost his wife
We would be better off without our vanity
And have a sense of belonging to humanity.

© Vince Suzadail Jr. . All Rights Reserved.


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