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Sonnet Family Poems | Sonnet Poems About Family

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Yesterday's Joys

The Old Refrain

Where have they gone, the simple days of old?
Though filled with toil, their melody was sweet—
A blending of the common joys that hold
That special place in memory's retreat:
Warm home fires burning, families gathered close,
The day chores done, the evening shared with zest,
That tranquil peace that hovered to disclose
Life's humble ways and means were surely best.

But now the complex song of modern man
So filled with discord drowning out the good
Of basic joys inherent in life's plan,
Makes happiness a gift misunderstood.

And why must progress hush the old refrain
To play this frantic tune we so disdain?

© Sandra M. Haight 2014 
   All Rights Reserved

~4th Place~
Contest: Pick a Title: Yesterday’s Joys
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © Sandra Haight

Details | Sonnet | |


The trip to church on Sunday wasn't long
Down dry dusty country roads closer roamed
Hearts did rejoice when singing love's sweet song
Precious memories now deeply intoned

A home filled to the brim with kith and kin
No evidence of the grief she suffered
When in her youth tales of such loss did spin
By age of twenty-five her life crumbled

Joys of a young bride with husband beside
Darling daughters three in tow~gone~from life
Oh, life issues such hard brazen blows inside
No longer was she a mother and wife

Her faith in a loving God never failed
She had strength of character which prevailed  

I have been doing some research about my biological family
I found that my father's mother was married in her youth
and had three daughters which all died as did her husband..
She married my grandfather and then had four sons which
all lived..She never gave up her faith through it all..What strength.

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

The Makeover - Still Weeping

Still Weeping

Original poem - Verse - June 8, 2013

Many came with flowers,
rainbows of roses and lilies,
solemn people came and went.

And then it was quiet,
the white snow fell upon me,
as I lay waiting in my eternal peace.

In a low voice father spoke,
with tears so fondly all those years,
then an elderly man came to be with me.

Often my beautiful mother came,
so mournful she came on the coldest days,
then one day she came to be with me forever.

Many times grandmother came,
oh, I remember her sweet, lovely voice,
then she came one dark night to be with me.

Many times a little girl came,
she crooned my precious name, Susie,
her eyes so dark and sad with weeping tears.

And even now, so often,
a woman comes with raven hair falling,
could this be the little girl who is still weeping.

I hear the names she whispers,
she does not cry just for me but for all,
who lay with me beneath the grass, rain and snow.

Still Weeping The Makeover - Sonnet - March 15, 2015 Many came with flowers, rainbows of roses and lilies, Solemn people came and went, then it was calm; Snow fell upon me as I lay beneath the barren trees, It was quiet when father read me a lovely psalm. In a low voice father spoke to me so sadly for years, Then an old man came to me beneath the azure; Often my beautiful mother mourned me with tears, And soon she also came to be with me forever. With her sweet voice many times grandma came, Then she was with me and I soothed her fears; A little girl crooned Susie, my precious child name, Could this be the young woman who still weeps tears. She weeps and prays for all the names engraved in stone, All who lay with me where wildflowers have grown. ______________________________ March 15, 2015 Verse/Sonnet For the contest, The Makeover, sponsor, Roy Jerden Second Place

Copyright © Broken Wings

Details | Sonnet | |


I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!

He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!

I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.

I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!

For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |

Morning Dew Glistens in Anticipation

Morning Dew Glistens in Anticipation

Glistening of gentle morning dew
soft breeze flowing sweetly along
Thoughts again of life and you
melodies that play a mental song

Trees wrapping this beautiful morn
joyful thoughts now so newly born
Sky filters down its sunlit rays
birds chirp all about on such days

My joy lost has now been found
as the natural world spins  around
Life takes on a sheen of the new
Again my happy thoughts turn to you

Our lives joined, paths forever hold
this deep love that makes us both so bold! 

Robert J. Lindley  09-24-2014

note: Took a Nature hike today. Saw God's beauty all around. 
Very soon I found myself thinking ,yes, that my life came around 
when my wife married me. As if a Spring shower had soothed the 
parched ground. Giving nourishment for the seeds of bliss
to sprout on up and grow.
God, Nature's glow, my wife's love and beauty , our son's 
smiles today made this world turn from bleak and cold to
sunshine and a slice Of heaven. Thank God for Nature's 
beauty and its sweet inspirations.
My brother-in-law David was sent home to die tonight. They can do no more , the cancer will end his life, most likely in the next few days...
I couldn't go there tonight. The helpless feeling slays me so!
I hope to have the courage to go tomorrow morn...

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |

Thanksgiving from Three Perspectives

A Child's Thanksgiving Prayer 

Lord, I thank thee as I sit to eat,
For mashed potatoes that I helped to make.
And thanks, dear Lord, we're having something sweet.
Besides the beets and peas, there's pies and cake!

I thank thee for the sweet potatoes too
‘Cause Mom put tiny marshmallows on top.
They melted into white and taste goo;
Bless Mom, this  time her cooking didn't flop!

And thanks, dear Lord, my cousins came today.
I only get to see them once a year.
It snowed, and so we're going out to play.
Only my aunt Ruthie isn't here.

I'm glad she caught a cold. Forgive me, Lord.
It's just she talks so much we kids get bored.

A Dad's Thanksgiving Prayer 

Thanks, Lord, for this day of our Thanksgiving.
I've got a nice long weekend thanks to thee,
Starting with what I call really living-
Football on TV for me to see.

I'm thankful for this turkey on the table,
And for my wife, who bought it at the store
Even though she had to read the label
On how to cook the thing and even more . . .

Because this was her first time hosting dinner,
There was a lot my poor wife had to learn.
But the pumpkin pie turned out to be a winner,
And the gravy(which I love), she didn't burn!

And praise to thee, my kid is not as bad
As those that my wife's sister Annie had.

A Mom's Thanksgiving Prayer 

I thank thee, Lord, for this Thanksgiving Day,
For helping hands to clear away this mess;
For snow to tempt the kids outside to play;
For all my family and the meal's success.

I haven't seen my sisters in a while.
Though Ruthie's gone, I'm glad we all can chat.
The men are in the den.  Each wears a smile.
They're chugging Buds and happy getting fat.

I'm thankful too that Mom and Dad are here.
They're taking all the kids to see a show
Tomorrow while the men are drinking beer.
I hope nobody gets into a row!

Bless Mom and Dad.  The kids will have them hopping
(Especially Annie's kids) while we're out shopping!

For PD's "Gobble, Gobble, Gobble.. any food, thanksgiving
 or turkey poem CONTEST.. Poetry Contest"

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |

Love, Betrayal and Dirty Dishes

Love, Betrayal and Dirty Dishes

I ate from your welcoming glitter plate
touches easing my restless soul.
Desperate, in love praying, not too late
never saw two eyes black as coal.

There were sweet drugs in your soft words
and dancing steps in your walk.
I flew with you, flew with soaring birds
heaven closer each time we talk.

Now, I hang my sad head in deepest shame
as friends point out how you used.
Seeing contempt at how you played the game
that left me so miserable and bruised.

Now your dirty plate sits in a closet still.
Force myself, to lock it there against my will!

Robert J. Lindley , 09-26 -2015

Note- Sonnet on deep betrayal and blindness that
love brings. 
Based on a sad reality for me many decades ago..

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |


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.

Copyright © Annika Johnson

Details | Sonnet | |

Mother's Love

Mother’s Love (Sonnet)

Love begins at the time of conception
When a mother’s dear child grows in her womb.
Her life is changed to thoughts of protection.
Excitement and wonder of gender bloom.

This new little life will bring heightened joy.
A new baby is what dreams are made of.
It matters not if it’s a girl or boy,
Birth will bring happiness and so much love.

Teaching a sweet child as he or she grows
Is a most important tool used each day.
To teach how compassion and kindness flows,
As they emulate and do things our way.

A mother’s love, with every endeavor,
Is a gift to her children forever.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

Happy Mother’s Day to every Mother and Step-Mother and Grand Mother and 
G. Grand Mother. Happy Belated Mother's Day to those of you in countries 
where you have already celebrated Mother's Day.

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong

Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet 18 Parody

Shall I compare thee to a winter’s day?
Thou art much more shrivelled and much more cold
Rough winds shake the withered leaves of today.
And your stomach hath too many a fold.

Sometimes too hot your sister shines,
And often is your grey complexion dimmed;
And you always smell like my uncle’s swine 
Except your upper lip is less well trimmed.

Thy eternal summer did long since fade
And lost possession of that fair thou ow'st;
And Satan brag thou wand'rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives death to eyes.

Copyright © Jeremy Lin

Details | Sonnet | |

I Envy the Weekend

Friday night the weekend begins for most
Mothers, Fathers, with family members host
To be together with those they LOVE most
While a lonely man speaks with his Wife's ghost

On my computer the POETRY site
Saturday mornings some comments I write
My former students all work through the night
An old man see's his Wife's Heavenly Light

After Church, there is my A A meeting
Forlorn lonesomeness,now takes a beating
I get home; Featured POETS; I'm greeting
Images of my lovely Wife : Fleeting

Monday, a new week, new POEMS I shall start
I pick up my quill and write from my Heart

Author's note: Dear Andrea, all lines have 10 syllables(Thanks for the Spelling)
I still have to work on the format - aabb- This looks like aaaa but it's not ; a -  just happens to rhyme with - b -

Copyright © HGarvey Daniel Esquire

Details | Curtal Sonnet | |

One More Time

The voyage long, begun at dawn, and then
the winged beast of metal rolls wheels to ground,
loved ones, inside and out, bear only grins,
and recount old tales of "remember whens?"
The hours of waiting fast recede, unwound,
as passengers embrace their long lost kin,
they grab their bags, head toward waiting cars
with hope and faith, forget the "might have beens."
"Worth the wait?" said Gram, Gramp smiles without a sound.
His son beams at 'the wife' and passes round cigars.
The world is right and bright again.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Sonnet | |

Eight Sons

(These would include the younger brothers of Wounded Thunder, the character I made up in my previously posted poem). These were sons of Thunder Storm and “Flower,” from Wounded Thunder down to Thunder Bolt. “Bolt” was fast; the touchy one was “Shower.” And Thunder Struck was somewhat of a dolt. The cute one pampered by fair Prairie Flower well-deserved his name of Thunder Squall, and like another brother Thunder Shower, got teased, but even louder did he bawl! Both “Squall” and “Shower” vexed their brother “Cloud,” for Thunder Cloud by moodiness was led and always scowled at them for crying out loud! Great Thunder Head filled everyone with dread, but the wild son who proved the biggest sap came home infected. That was Thunder Clap!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |

Miraculous Veroni

I don't believe in miracles, only you.
A sigh of love could say it all. This is true,
that ever since you looked at me I have known
I would never feel the same, oh how I've grown.

Never again will we mire in doubt. This time
You and I will cast the shadows from our minds.
This time I would learn from you all that I can,
what it truly means to be your perfect man.

How holy it feels to see behind your eyes.
My love has touched your core, infinite in size.
A universe of happiness now we bring
in union that defies the need for this ring.

My darling Veroni*, what have you become?
Where once there were two, now all I see is one.

*Vera + Yoni = Veroni

Copyright © Yoni Dvorkis

Details | Sonnet | |

Windows of His Soul

His light eyes sadly stare; I know him not
although he has my intellect and wit. 
A lifetime now of answers I have sought,
his puzzling pieces in some box to fit.

Square pegs can’t be confined; nor can I find
that missing part to let me understand
what I might do to ease his burdened mind;
to know why he could not take hold my hand. . .

The infant boy I cradled at my chest
desired not my sustenance but grew. 
A melancholy soul, and yet he’s blessed
with oh, so much - and eyes grey-green tinged blue.

To heal the soul behind eyes so like mine . . .
Alas!  Their tint I barely can define.

For the Relationship themed Poetry Contest of little know nothing

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |


A mother carried you in her womb,
Her happiness moment is when you were born and she met you.
A mother is tender and nurtures you.
She does everything to take care of you.
A mother is your protector who keeps you out of harms way.
She worries about you night and day.
A mother is your supporter and inspiration.
She guides you in the right direction.
A mother is your comfort when you need an ear,
She is the only one who is true and dear.
A mother sets an example,
There is nothing too great for her to handle.
A mother's love is unconditional,
All the decisions she makes are rational.
A mother is valuable and strong,
Not afraid to tell you what's right when you're wrong.
A mother does everything to give you what you need,
She's there cheering you on to succeed.
A mother will always be your mother,
She is irreplaceable because you will never get another.
A mother goes over and beyond,
Nothing can come in between a mother and her child's bond.
A mother is truly a gift that needs to be appreciated,
She is the reason why you were created.
A mother would die for you,
She lives her life for you.
A mother sacrifices her wants for yours,
She is your own personal super hero and more.

       May 10, 2014
~The One and Only~

Copyright © Pamela Bland

Details | Sonnet | |

Michael's Blessed Birthday (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Have a blessed birthday Michael J Today I knelt for you to pray May His guiding light shine on you God’s grace I pray will bring you through May you have strength on your birthday With family this holiday Celebrating with faith like new God’s grace I pray will bring you through As your son returns home today Like a rainbow brightens the day Continue to wear a smile too God’s grace I pray will bring you through Have a blessed birthday Michael J God’s grace I pray will bring you through © Joseph, 11/20/07 © All Rights Reserved Hello Michael, have a blessed birthday and Thanksgiving holiday with your brave son and family. May God bless each of you always and as a family! The Kyrielle Sonnet is a French form from the Middle Ages. It has 14 lines (three rhyming quatrains and a non-rhyming couplet). It has a repeating line or phrase as a refrain in the last line of each stanza. Each line within the Kyrielle Sonnet has eight syllables. There are times when a French poem links back to the poem’s beginning; therefore, a common practice is to combine the first line of the first quatrain and the refrain in each quatrain as the ending couplet for the poem.

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr

Details | Sonnet | |


'...and then the lighting of the lamps.'
                                    -T.S. Eliot

Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
   settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
   vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
   in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
   the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
   for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
   to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
      to pray for courage to endure their toil,
      for days they spend in harness to the soil.

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe

Details | Sonnet | |

Grow Not Too Tall

Grow not too tall nor so far away son
Plant not your tendrils deep in new ground
Thinking newness your past can now outrun
Stay in touch let your heart remain homebound

Tree too tall without deep roots falls subject
to any strong wind, let those roots remain
Planted in truth grow toward right_connect
With justice, let love's seeds grow don't constrain

Reach up to touch shining stars capture love
Reel it in let love flow through you to all
Love is key_even though at times unheard of
Remember God's Word don't be like King Saul

Don't grow to proud, high, mighty, arrogant.
Intellect_ learning _start to mightily flaunt 

Click on "About This Poem"

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

If I Were Rich

If I Were Rich

If I were rich, where would I live and why?
Perhaps that would depend on what is rich.
Is rich a state of mind that we apply
to wants, compared to what we have, to which

we wish for more?  Suppose new wealth for me
would fill a greater want to move somewhere
away from home?  Perhaps live happily
aboard a yacht to languish in the air

of sea with endless waves that splash the shore?
Just sunny skies and cotton clouds to see?
Unwise to change my life for want of more,
when more might lead to lone tranquility.
If I were rich I would not change my ways.
With family close by, live out my days.

Sandra M. Haight

Contest: If You Were Rich, Where Would You Live and Why?
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Judged: 11/15/2015

Copyright © Sandra Haight

Details | Sonnet | |

MEGAN'S HIT - the Baseball Sonnet

      MEGANS HIT - the Baseball Sonnet
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"

I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!

I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!

    He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
    to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!


"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
(the umpire was my Daddy, in this game.)

I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!

"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!

   Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
   while I choked up--and readied for a hit!

All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"

The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!

I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!

   The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
   a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!


The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!

The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be 
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!

The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"

   Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
   and on his heels--I made my promise good!


We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!

The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!

I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
    Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
    the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Sisterly Examples

When I was young, I had a great disdain
for Campell's nasty soup named Alphabet.
One Saturday it was our mother's threat
we had to eat it up or home remain
and miss the matinee. How inhumane!
Mom left the room; I never will forget
the thing which I'd repeat without regret -
I took that slop and tossed it down the drain!

When Mom returned, I'd "downed" all of my soup.
Again she left; Mel went to dump HER meal
and at the sink got caught. Poor nincompoop!
She missed "Red Riding Hood" while I, the heel,
went out. Our mom was left "out of the loop."
My little sister did not even squeal!

(Some slang words here for my non-native friends:
a "nincompoop" is a foolish person,
"out of the loop" means to never be aware of something
and the last verb "squeal" means to "tell on someone"
I always tried to get away with murder when I was young
and I can't believe my sister missed the movie by not telling
on me! On the other hand, I really enjoyed "Red Riding Hood" heehee)

For Frank H's 
A Childhood MEMORY Poetry Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Tree of Love

The soft warm shades of twinkle lights, reflects, muted, from love worn orbs. Serenity it does afford, to all our weary souls and hearts. Each decoration is a part, to the testament of years rewards. They glow richer, as love absorbs. Sweet memories, they do impart. Paper, glitter, from a child's hand. Delicate hand blown glass Angels. Beneath a star that rests above, popcorn and cranberry garlands, tiny hand painted, silver bells. Thirty Five years of Christmas love.
For the contest: Holiday Hearth Sponsored by Linda Marie

Copyright © Paula Swanson

Details | Sonnet | |


The Sacrament of Confirmation

Confirmation perfects baptismal grace

The Sacrament gives the Holy Spirit to root us more deeply in divine filiation

Incorporate us more firmly to Fr. Christ

Strengthen our bond with the Church

Associate us more closely with her mission

Help us bear witness to Christian faith in words accompanied by deeds

Like Baptism imprints a spiritual mark or indeliable character of the Christian soul

For this reason one can receive this sacrament only once in one’s life

A candidate for Confirmation has attained the age of reason must profess faith

Be in the state of grace

Have the intention of receiving the Sacrament

Be prepared to assume the role of disciple

Witness to Fr. Christ, both within the Ecclesial bond

Annointing of the forehead of the baptized with sacred chrism

Written 09172012

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Divine Intervention

They said he would grow out of it,
All night I’d listen to his cough,
His nose dripped and wouldn’t turn off,
When it got bad, he would vomit.
The doctors wouldn’t promise
Their treatments would pay off,
After years, they acted a little lost
When he showed almost no progress.

I kept praying for his healing,
Suddenly, good news without question, 
Test results showed normal breathing,
The doc said, “Stop the medicine!”
I’m still reeling from the feeling,
That, my friends, is divine intervention.

*This poem is based on true events.

Copyright © Kim Bond

Details | Sonnet | |

Standing Tall

I’ve had many families in this life
of origin school navy and here too
I admit the best ones came with a wife
we all know life at times can be a zoo

I’m no Robert Young from Father knows best
wife and I are planning a family
I’ll have more gray hair coming from no rest
having this life there’s no reason to flee

poetry has renewed my life some how
always knew writing was therapeutic
expressing my true feelings here and now
I can relax when life is real hectic

my life may not be the greatest at all
no matter what I have always stood tall

Copyright © Robert Heemstra

Details | Sonnet | |

The Lost Sheep

(Joy Over Sinners' Repentance
MT 18:10-14
LK 15:1-7)

The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to him
The Pharisees and scribes began to complain
"This man welcomes sinners and eats with them
" So to them he addressed this parable 

"What man among you having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine in the desert and go after the lost one until he finds it? 
And when he does find it
 He sets it on his shoulders with great joy 
upon his arrival home, he calls together his friends and neighbors and says to them,

'Rejoice with me because I have found my lost sheep.' 
I tell you, 
In just the same way there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance. (LK 15:1-7)

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Sonnet | |


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.

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Sonnet | |

My Dream Home

A home is where I run to, after a roam
Under blue skies or starry ones
Made of majesty, as found in Rome
I become there, as calm as the white swans

A home made of love
Where are heard songs of comfort
Found over the bridge of pain and above
I find in it my own strong fort

A home ecologically clean
Showing no harm to Earth
Bearing no grudge to the mean
Living is simply a matter of pure breath!

My dreamhome, one in a million, without any fear
Shall I build, along with my chosen peer!

Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon

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Little Sister the Chef

Being the little sister in a family with mostly boys
Was very hard and difficult liking all their toys
I loved to play in the dirt , could throw any ball
Played "running bases", "tag", and loved "off the wall"

My sister was way older and she was never home
So I was forced to battle with my brothers on my own
I fought my battles valiantly, but each time I would lose
Being youngest in a family,I often became the muse

I cried many tears those many years ago
For competing with those boys,I had a lot to show
I grew older,strong, and smarter and chose a tough career
Cooking for a living in a man's world, I showed no fear

Those brothers had taught me to always fight for what's right
A women could cook as well as a man, and besides I had a knife!

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver