These Childhood Sonnet poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Childhood. These are the best examples of Childhood Sonnet poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Why does a child have to go to school?
Why do we have to spend so much time working?
This seems simply cruel.
Isn't it just irking?
Some people say school is important for learning
Couldn't a child learn on their own?
It would cause much less yearning,
After all, we can learn from our phones.
I can somewhat see a parents point in sending their child to school.
But why would you choose what we wear?
It just allows us to look like fools,
We may as well come to school bear.
As you can see school is not fair,
So please don’t force us to go if you care.
When I was a young boy,
I built a castle on the beach.
I made it from sand with my shovel-toy,
Then the waves grabbed it in their reach.
They tore my castle down,
And dragged it down into the sea.
So i took my shovel and, with a frown,
Built another castle quickly.
I built it bigger and stronger
Than the ones in the past.
I thought this one would last longer,
But its walls would no longer last.
I built a moat around the last one that day,
But the waves seemed desperate to wash them all away.
The one room school house always was too full.
The windows oversized and chill on winter days.
You sat behind me, I thought you were real cool,
one day you passed a note to me to say...
I Love YOU, you wrote in colored pencil.
I kissed the yellow paper on that line,
then took out a red pen and I stenciled
a perfect heart, PLEASE Be My Valentine.
He blushed from ear to ear and, he scribbled more
a crumpled paper said, "Please meet me in the park...
on the bench, by the fence,".. too cute to ignore.
The bell rang, out we went into the dark to spark.
That day so long ago, now we're old and gray
I often think of that kiss, as near me, my man lays.
Soft night has come my little child, so rest
Come lay your head upon your mother’s breast
Oh close your eyes and listen as she sings
And soon you’ll hear the sound of angel wings
Come drift away into the land of dreams
Where fairies dance and smile while sunlight gleams
Oh come and float among the clouds of white
No harm can stir within this world of light
Come laugh and play with fluffy cotton sheep
You’ll clap and sing and they will run and leap
Then come return into your warm, soft bed
Let evening kiss you softly on your head
Oh sleep until the night at last is done
Oh sleep and dream my precious little one
Growing up as a child I never wanted to sleep alone
In fear of the darkness and most of all the unknown
“Mommy is there monsters” I would commonly ask
Her reply was “only on Halloween, the ones we see in masks”
Still not satisfied with her answer and questioning her some more
Asking her the same old thing as I did the night before
Frustrated and exhausted she finally took me by the hand
Looking under my bed, in my closet and even inside my night-stand
“So see my daughter the monsters are only in your head”
“It’s time to get some sleep me dear, now do as I have said”
Respectfully obeying my mother; my little body trembling with fear
Wishing the hour was morning, praying for “him” not to appear
But as the darkness faded and uncomfortable silence came about
I could hear the monster stirring, getting ready to come out
Hoping the noises I heard were only my brothers messing around
Pulling the covers over my head, hoping and praying not to be found
The footsteps getting closer, the monster is almost to the foot of my bed
I now can hear his heavy breathing, oh God how I wished he was dead
Quietly he lifts my covers back and lays down in the bed beside me
Touching, groping and mauling, trying to cover my eyes so I cannot see
He took away my childhood and with that my trust and self-esteem
A pleading child without a voice, invisible as it would seem
So yes my daughters there are monsters, everywhere we look
Saying as I remember my childhood and everything he took
G irls giggle and tell secrets. That’s okay!
R ambunctious boys can cause my head to ache.
A ngelic girls are easier to take.
N ight comes. They kneel beside their bed to pray.
D ear little dolls, they go to sleep straightway,
D ress up like princesses when they awake,
A nd nicely play. No trouble do they make.
U nsullied darling little nymphs are they!
G lad news for Grandma having girls again;
H ow nice I need not deal with all the woes!
T wo sisters, Lydia and Natalyn,
E arn hugs and kisses just for being kin.
R eflections of my dreams, and on life goes. . . .
S weet granddaughters let love and laughter in!
An Acrostic Italian Sonnet for
Contest by dakarai cobb:
The Sonnet Man's Acrostic Challenge
Children learn by the games they play
the games you teach them to control
They watch your eyes, they watch your smile
your opinions take a heavy toll.
Do you teach them to run and jump high
or lead them into a darkened room.
Do you give them guns and sword play
or send them outside to grow and bloom.
Have you explained the hurt, and the pain
which comes from the letting of blood
or glorified taking of sides
and bleeding victims crushed in the mud.
Two dimensional deeds plant red seeds
in the fertile fields of growing minds.
*title credit to Crosbey Stills and Nash
Which love is not a struggle to the mind?
'tis easier to think love glides along,
regardless of a road not there to find,
or never caring what is right or wrong.
One love, of child, a father's steady hand,
protecting innocence, through many years
as if he knew the way, and had it planned,
to heal each mortal wound as it appears.
As if all things begin with his okay,
the good, the joy of life to build upon;
demanding right, and hoping in some way
he's always with you, even when he's gone.
The banged up knee, your losing of a friend,
are yours to feel, but his to comprehend.
© RON WILSON AKA VEE BDOSA
SUNDAY DINNER (Hillbilly sonnet)
Ma's cookin now, so come and set a spell
and you can bet we'll have her Sunday best
before the settin sun, and who can tell
what's on her stove--but it will meet the test.
Can't you just smell that fryin chicken now?
And you must know the gravie's fresh and hot
for pourin on them taters--I allow
a little more than I should have--so what?!?
The butter it just melts on bread so light
to compliment the vegetables we grow,
now if you know a life that's half as right
as this, you'd better make it yours to know.
And I will say the grace, to thank God for
what He has give--so He will give us more.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Deserve the world my child,my son
If I could give, with heart I'd run
Pray instead, I must for you
Placed many tools to get you through
Life ahead unknown my son
So much I wish, your dreams ignite
Strive for all, please shine that light
Become the man I know you'll be
But please for you and not just me
Dig deep inside with every might
Strive for all thats due, you'll see
Deserving much from world, not me
Kindness, compassion, intelligence too
Owning these gifts, build confidence in you
By example, trust, live life for thee
Accept these words I give from me
My child, a man will come to be