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Sonnet April Poems | Sonnet Poems About April

These Sonnet April poems are examples of Sonnet poems about April. These are the best examples of Sonnet April poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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   (Apropos The Children I Know)

Act your age my darling little child;
Take care not to go about in blinded haste.
Enjoy this lovely life for a while;
Time is elusive and you have none to waste.

Listen, candy does not always last very long;
Can be as hard as rock, yet melts as easy as ice:
Teases your tongue with sweetness and then its gone;
Leaving you wading the emptiness of something once nice.

Yes, when you are young, innocent and very sweet,
This old life can throw many enticing things you way:
Making you think that it’s all good and life is always neat;
But be aware my child, life has her debts we all are bound to pay. 

For just as the night must surly turn into another day;
You my child, like me, will eventually grow old and gray.

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I want to say good night
But its night as yet to you
I can see darkness now
If maybe you never left

I have to say good night
Darkness has defeated me
Only your love can resurrect me
I am afraid to go now
But I have to go and live under the shads
Love me to my silent place

Good night when you see the moon
Flower me with roses from abandon garden 
Cover me with what i was and be now
Good night sleep with elevated power

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Heavens Art

You my precious precious thing
You I would have to wear my ring
Upon your finger you would
Wear a crown
And in thou service
I'd humbly bow
Kneel before you with my heart
Holding sacred all thou art
Holy would be my love so true
Given so faithfully unto you
And when reminded
Of your hand so dear
And the vision of my ring
So clear
And the arm that wears the hand
With the body with which
It stands
And the head so beautiful still
That captures all my ways
And will
With the eye's that stole
My heart
And the smile with which
My soul departs
Keep me and my unseen parts
Upon your hand and in your heart
Take my soul where ever thou art
Into heaven the deepest part
And never let our souls be apart
Made in heaven as heavens art


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Come list my dear to Christmas, tis the sound
of childrens voices ringing soft and dear
it brings to mind that hope may still be found
within a world that lives in constant fear

oh what a change the world's been going through
since first we met one winters Christmas eve
and all I ever had, the gift of you
was all I ever needed to believe

that peace on earth would be all of our days
and now just hear these children sing along
perhaps we judge them harshly, in some ways
for don't they seem the picture of their song?

   And as their sounds warm to the heart of me  
   I pray this is the way their world will be.
© Ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

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the day of the dead

The day of The Dead. 

 The cemetery in Loule is on top of a hill, today
early spring the steep hillside is full of luscious 
yellow flowers. Not like ripe lemons, more like 
Swiss butter, from the rich milk of cows will bells
and horns; sturdy feet able to carry big, rose-pink 
udders and be milked by smiling maidens with 
strong arms creamy white as a Valkyrie’s bosom 

What you didn’t see- all this life- when blinded
by the intensity of every sun lit flower came
 from a rotting coffins, the few day in early spring 
when the dead are let out, sway on a hillside and 
soak up the sun.