These Girlfriend Sonnet poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Girlfriend. These are the best examples of Girlfriend Sonnet poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Love shall be the easiest word; to say.
Though deeper than any words do go,
Harder in ways that anyone may show.
True love so much more such anyway.
Shall wipe out any form of dismay,
If veracity of heart is graciously slow.
When mixed with eyes that seem to glow.
Tenderness rewarding, true loves array.
More than any act, that enriches pleasure.
Flows from, enacted verses; unspoken,
Spirited rapture, with hormonal divide,
From the soul; pure golden treasure,
Enriches feelings beyond any token,
Heavenly bond ensues; when two coincide.
My love, your breath, fresh as a spring breeze,
Caresses my face, with a wondrous tone,
As your sweet lips, approach mine, we moan.
For expectation, of such pleasurable tease,
For there is no time, for emotions to please,
Our brief moments, are barely, only a loan.
For passion delivers, future beautifully alone,
Our ecstasies of movements together, appease.
After spring, before the heat of summer time,
Our ardor grows; grows within each heart.
Our touch, Heavens blessing, to each other,
These moments, hours, days have no crime.
Together forever, our souls, never part,
Our spirits are free, to love; never smother.
The girls in vain tried his sad soul to sweeten;
(why art thou laughing at his blackened eye?)
Malign and radioactive chicken,
you never loved or watered his bonsai!
Thou spaced-out sill maiden of delusion,
and frivolous, counterfeit struthio,
thy cackling leave gave tongue to contusion,
eloped with Foghorn Leghorn unto Rio.
Beloved of his aphotic thought's wit,
deserted cot due to thine abandon,
dawns sullen, chickenless, dolour permit,
- old taken snaps of you with his Canon.
Incomprehensible, soulless chicken
His saddened eye is karate stricken.
© 03-23-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
Dating a beautiful redhead girl will be the greatest moment of my life. She’s like an Irish princess, even better. Her hair is so red, it’s as if she’s on fire. Her beautiful eyes are like a pair of emerald gems when I look at them. And her pale skin is as beautiful as pure, white snow. It seems to me that all attractive redheads are amazing, and most of all, they’re down to Earth. This redhead is also like a beautiful, Irish Princess, even from the Emerald Isle (Ireland). I never dated an attractive redheaded girl before, but it’s about time that I did. Plus, there are other beautiful redheads who are famous, like Kay and Danielle Panabaker, Emma Stone, Hayley Williams, Lindsay Lohan, Lily Cole, and others. Not to mention Julienne Moore, even though she’s happily married. I wouldn’t mind dating a beautiful redhead, but she has to be from the U.S. or Ireland. She’s like that redheaded warrior from Brave. She’ll be my Irish Princess one day (Irish girlfriend), and I’ll be her American prince (American beau). I say, if I were to get into a serious relationship with this attractive redhead, I won’t break her heart; I’d also be honest and truthful to her. I know that female redheads are sensitive and I also know that she doesn’t want to be brokenhearted. All I know is that if I fall in love with a redhead girl and I become infatuated with her, there’s just no telling.
In A Hotel Room
In a hotel room, she lies, literally to herself.
Their meetings filled with desire are brief.
How can she put her dignity on a shelf
Lost, between the crumpled sheet.
As a friend I helplessly watch
As her happiness turns to shame
All the joy before is lost
Falling for this hoodlums game.
There is no love in a hotel room
Used for trysts and rendezvous
As she leaves she's filled with gloom
Not the girl that I once knew.
Players play for keeps
no conscience they can sleep.
She had the world in her eyes yet you could see through
A windowpane leading to a brick wall.
All I wanted was my notions, passions to ring true
Through her voice, lips, lust, despite myself I fall.
I can hear her haunting voice still in my head.
I can feel her fingertips flowing intertwined with mine.
The smell, scent, sadness lingers still in bed.
I could have seen it coming, she gave me a sign.
Yet to have and to hold, she inquired.
Despite myself, I inquired as well;
Nothing held, nothing had is what's transpired.
I can only blame me, too easily I fell.
Yet, here I stand, open-book.
She HAS the world in her eyes, if she'd just look.
BY HEROLD OSMOND OWOSEB
How do I say that which I am not permitted to say?
How do I live each day pretending that what I feel is not real?
Who do I tell about this I feel each day?
Who will remove this desire within me to be with you?
I live each day as if I no longer exist but this reminds me that I still breathe.
It reminds me that every breath I take carries the memory of you.
Is it worth living if I do not live with you?
The future talks about someone else I am to love.
The future does not lie but today is more a friend to me than the future.
I just wish that the future would change how today looks like.
What if I tell the future that I much rather live only for yesterday for yesterday is more fulfilling.
Although the future may be hundred percent right, it changes not what today holds.
I am not permitted to question the future so I much rather live today with the thought of yesterday
Until I reach the future one day.
(For Ukadike Chimma)
That day I was but walking on my path, full of self-confidence,
heading towards a purpose I had set from my residence.
My humble head bowed low, I pressed forward in a haste,
yet I was mindful lest I outrun my chance to court a waste.
Leaving behind the sights and all that my back had brought
to face what my way’d unveil, I prepared even to be fought.
Forcefully my head was raised, for something had beckoned—
it was an irresistibly pretty figure I saw or so I had reckoned.
I gave a pause, poised to find what the distance would unfold,
little foreseeing I would enjoy defeat from what I set to behold.
The more it advanced the lesser my endurance and my strength.
I trembled: it was the first adventure facing me from this length.
I am a young soldier though, at home, in a haste, I’d left my wit,
and now struck helpless by her soothing hit, I am no more fit.
Have mercy, spare me, for all my skills I have lost or unlearned,
or take a wink to look away while I address the desire I discerned.
If I am blessed to accomplish this task, I shall be more than glad;
but If I fall casualty to the defeat of the challenge, I shall be sad,
for I have never before retreated from a duet of this kind all in vain,
yet if I can use up all I have left, I shall not care to manage a gain.
Now she’s near so it’s time I waved her a stop to give my best,
since I’ve got two awesome things—this task and a school test.
To pass one and fail the other (or miss one) is going to mean a crime.
God, help me here with overwhelming words as my tongue I prime,
because I must not exhibit a repelling style or make a worse blunder
and be displeased with my waning military spirit if we’re put asunder.
Do you understand I can’t make out why I stand under your charm,
because it always takes place the other way round without any harm?
The ethereal lure radiating from this unblemished skin equals the cost
of your doting parentage, the root you grew from that mustn’t be lost.
Now you grow, grow and grow, while skeptics marvel as you soar tall
from the root of this tree that you must garden and see it doesn’t fall.
If you can disorientate me in this manner while I forget to remember
what I’m capable of, you deserve kudos from January to December.
Because of waywardness my tongue should give way to my clever pen
which is mightier than the sword and be the spokesman of wise men.
It adores the spotless teeth you flaunt as a sign of mildness and peace;
appreciates the dazzling light in your eyes that reduces one to a piece;
and promises to smear your plumb cheeks with deserving delight
by ensuring that you beam with dimples like the stars in the night.