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Funny Sonnet Poems | Sonnet Poems About Funny

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

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Details | Sonnet |

Note to a Lady in Waiting

The white charger's belly is bloated with hay
The helmet helm's rusted quite shut
The tack room door hinges are tearing away
The leather's un oiled  and dry
The lance is still good
It is bracing the fence
but  I traded the sword for a pen
I am presently seeking a page
So if you're still waiting
and anticipating 
A Lochinvar ending of sorts
I shall purchase wild oats for the horse
I recall how to sow them of course
With hardly a shred of remorse


Details | Sonnet |

Sandcastles

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.


Details | Sonnet |

First crossed by a gyspy, now by a dang witch

“Close the book, ring the bell, light the candle.”
The witch’s words resounded in my ears.
My problems now were more than I could handle
and so I hoped she’d vanquish all my fears.

She stared at me across the darkened room
and then commanded me that I must stay
until my wish was granted. Then a broom
she grabbed, and out the door she flew away!

The magic lay in me, the hag had said.
I only had to wish with all my might.
But with my kind of luck, I might be dead
before I’d get what I had wished that night.

I sit here still; she’s left me with a curse!
No health care yet, and now my back is worse!

(sorry to belabor this, but now you see what preoccupies
my mind these days!! Linda's contests always seem
to bring out this topic for me lately. The gypsy referred to
in my title was in my last poem I did for Linda!)

By Andrea Dietrich for Linda-Marie's
"BELL, BOOK AND CANDLE" Poetry Contest


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!


Details | Sonnet |

Shall I Compare Thee to Your Mother's Arse

Shall I compare thee to your mother's arse?
Thou aren’t more lovely, but more flatulent.
Rough winds do shake it; and bring on a farce
And all her clothes hath all too short a rent

Sometime too hot-headed of hell doth burn,
And often is the true nature exposed;
And every foul from fowl; my stomach churns,
By reason, or by nature's raging closed.

But thy infernal diet shall ne’er start
Nor gain possession of which now I grasp;
Nor shall we meet again; let’s stay apart,
When in eternal sounds the voice does rasp,
So long as men can breathe or eyes can cry,
So long lives this, and I bid thee goodbye.


Details | Sonnet |

A Brutally Honest Valentine's

My darling enigma, my dove   
You’re the epitome of my love
Your smile shines at me pearly white      
Pale skin shines and glints in the light       
Silken locks, obsidian flow
Eyes just like ice, crystalline glow        
Peals of laughter ring like a bell            
Enchant me; I’m under your spell    
You walk with a musical flow
Tiptoeing with softness through snow

But, alas, you open your mouth
Utter tripe spilling out
If only you’d keep your mouth shut.

(Love from Anonymous) 


Details | Sonnet |

Happy Birthday Jenny (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Hope your big day brings you plenty
Keep a bright smile all the way
Your mom sings your praises today

Soon you will be driving to school
Don’t forget to follow the rules
Enjoy your day with a buffet
Your mom sings your praises today

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Don’t forget to save your pennies
Wish on a star on your great day
Your mom sings your praises today

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Your mom sings your praises today

© Joseph, 8/20/2007
© All Rights Reserved

This is for the the daughter of our own poetess, Kathy.

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.


Details | Sonnet |

Eternity

I am looking right at you and you don’t even know it.
I will deter your intent and throw you off a steep cliff.
But in the air will be my snuff and gruff you can sniff.
Eventually I will have some sort of mercy of just a bit.

Surely we are above empowering manners of tat for tit. 
Maybe I’ll light a scented candle and blow you my whiff.
Or maybe I will strand you grounding your bones to stiff.
Opposed or decomposed and still composed I won’t quit.

Upside down,
Inside or out,
I’ll throw down.
I am the clout.

Don’t mistake my identity,
Either or, it’s your eternity.

® Registered: Ann Rich   2009


Details | Sonnet |

Jabberwacky

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


Details | Sonnet |

A Welcome For Timorous Tim

Poor Tim, the timorous, one cold dark day set out to prove that TIMID he was not! He ventured one whole night alone to stay inside the empty house his friends had sought. The house was old. . . unlocked, it beckoned Tim. He neared its door; his trepidation grew. His laughing friends grew silent watching him. He deeply breathed, then vanished from their view. Inside, Tim heard below the house a sound. He could not be a coward! With a sigh, he took the creaking stairway down and found before his eyes, a scraggly toothless guy who greeted, smilingly, the trembling lad: “It ain’t the Ritz, but welcome to my pad!” For the "Smile You're On Candid Camera Contest of vienna bombardieri


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