A four line poem

The love that I see in the eyes of my son,
When he looks at his daughter, his much longed for one.
My own precious girl and the warmth that we share,
No riches or fame could with these things compare.

The birds at my window, bright leaves on the trees,
I know I am lucky to see such as these.
A new book to read or a walk through the field
And waiting to see what each new day may yield.

Well all you Grans and Grandas too,
I hope you've all had that jab 'gainst the 'flu,
I've had mine and it didn't make me sick,
but I must admit I felt a little prick.

Nannyfran---Love it!!

A four line poem is easy to write, if poetry isn't your passion.

Be trite; force the rhyme; forget allusion et al;

Why bother with metre and structure and such -

Just throw it all out, in modern day fashion.

Good news at last I have to tell,
the little fellow's feeling well.
Doctor Richard did a test
and gave him medicine for his chest.

So now with mum he's sleeping fast.
I'll bet this quiet doesn't last.
He has recovered well once more,
our little boy who's nearly four.

(I think it will take me a little longer - such stress.)

so pleased

Pam Ayres I am not
I do not give a jot
How can I compete?
I will take a back seat

I met Pam Ayres
I smelled of haddock
hoped she thought
I was Fanny Craddock!

Fotw

Great news,grannyactivist.

Thank you Caz!

My heart is beating fastly
The feeling could be nasty
I blame my favourite Band
I am sure you'll understand

Here's the first line, now keep going;
Here's the second - half-way through!
Two lines more, it's fairly flowing.
Here's the fourth - but will it do?

This is slightly longer than your 4 lines, but it's very popular with audiences (I am a performance poet)

As I was enjoying my first cup of coffee
An elderly lady in a straw hat trimmed with flowers
strolled past my living room window
And we exchanged smiles.
It was not until some time later, while preparing lunch
That I recollected that my flat is on the 17th floor.

Now that is more like it, sussex! (I'm a poet too, in a quiet way.) Thank you!

Pam in disguise?

Oh dear....

sussex, why can't I write like that? Don't worry - that's a rhetorical question.

Peel back the pain
Layer by layer.
Hold out your hands to a passing stranger
Smile with your eyes, share with your heart.

Lovely, Liz!

I was sitting in my chair last night composing a poem in my head; now I can't remember what it was about. I thought it was quite promising!

If it comes, you HAVE to write it then, that's what I have discovered. I haven't an inspiration at the moment; it may come!