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Sonnet Health Poems | Sonnet Poems About Health

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

If Love Does Not Live (Sonnet for Celene Crescent)

If love does not live so that love may live,
Wrecked on rugged rock like a pirate ship;
Tiresias speaks to hearts—no love to give,
Darkness and void with no inspired lips;

If love is quashed short of its golden prime,
Like dinosaurs smashed by a meteorite;
Crushed from its age of blossoming on time,
Like breath strangled from life not to unite!

Then O’ love, send me Pegasus to ride,
Spread your wings—lift us to Zeus in the sky;
Touching constellations with them abide,
Creating cherished crescendos for weepy eye:

Lightning life beaming love from golden clouds
Descending passion upon earth erasing shrouds!

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr

Details | Sonnet | |

Give me a break I am PMS ing

I may slap you, curse you, smack you
Don’t get too serious honey, its monthly fun
I am PMS ing and my trauma is true
Be my gentleman and Pass My Shotgun

I may hate your friends and knock them down
Be any handsome man or cute chick
Don’t get them here when I am around
I am PMS ing, People Make me Sick

I may laugh out loud at your silly jokes
And the very next moment won’t find them funny
That catastrophic emotional trauma pokes
I am PMS ing, its Psychotic Mood Shift honey

Every month, within me I sense this ruinous storm
It’s not me honey, this phantom is Premenstrual Syndrome

Copyright © Neha Godambe

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.

Copyright © Flippant She-Creature

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

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |

September Chill

It was the first part of September
As the leaves were just starting to turn
The bonfire shrank to just one ember
A fearful forecast she would discern

Yes, the hurricane season lived on
Although the seas were starting to cool
Bounty of trees now plucked – pecan
As children made their way back to school

Indian Summer brought such sad news
A woman still in her autumn years
Struggled from her eyes, tears to excuse
She had to face the greatest of fears

The doctor offered no hope for her
Would this month be her last September?

*Entry for Brian’s September Contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

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 | Italian Sonnet | |

Greet the Sun

Shall raw and bleeding wounds gape wide for thee
and overcoat each new parchments’ page?
Are thee foul succubus seeking a sage
undead and living vicariously?

Shall another’s soul flow unbound to thee
like a courtesan released from her cage
each tomes rich with crimson text overlaid.
So alone, thee can dine veraciously?

Shall life come a courting as thy subject?
Nay, lance the ripe boil of lassitude.
Purge thy barren cloister genuflect.

Author thine own life thee are not destitute.
Expand into the world, let life project.
Arise, pale spirit and the sun exude.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Sonnet | |

Speckled Sea Air Stings Soft Skin

Sea horizon in the distance ...a clean line.... a quiet shore
Every day the ocean washes up something new on its sandy floor...
Today,  the sea formed  haystacks of seaweed piled quiet high
Yesterday   sea sponges and fan-shells lapped the crunchy sands
Gentle humming of  soft ocean sounds humms  by to and fro
Seagulls squawking , flying in unison form a V- like kite formation
Their pale eyes widen  as red feet and beaks hover and flutter
Two yellow labradors swimming and weaving from shore to  ocean
Bounding gracefully into the water , chasing and  jumping in unison
Tirelessly,effortlessly running along their beloved ocean shore.
Young dogs greet each other in an excitedly ,friendly fashion.
Horses hoof prints embedded gracefully in the shoreline sand....
Broken glass edges  made smooth with the sands abrasion
Oh wonderful mobile reflecting the sunlights warm sensations!

Copyright © Mariana pavlich

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Riding Through the Night

Above the clouds, beyond the tree she stays.
Remaining thus, the moon is chaste for now,
Allowing not her well-worn face to show
The many scars belying better days.
I glide along, my wheelchair making way
For no man here, the streets bereft of flow,
Garages closed to keep their cars in stow.
I roam the night, while they may share the day.

Secluded thus I flee from ghosts untold
Who question where my life has gone astray
While broken paths and other wrecks unfold.
I’m lost and cannot seem to find my way
Toward peace of mind, a way out of the cold;
The growing mist thus edging joy away.

Copyright © Ken Crawford

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 | |

My First Hex Sonnetta

My First Hex Sonnetta

Sweet Angel Jessica


Sonnetta the Witch

She lived far away from the village below
Deep in the woods, high up in the sky
Where mountain mists flutter on by
She was an old skinny lady of a strange persona

There were rumors in the village center
That she was witch who called herself Sonnetta
The children all cowered around mother’s legs
When Sonnetta would come to trade her herbal dregs

It was said she could turn people to frogs
Her brews could make men tremble and shiver like dogs
She carried a wand disguised as cane
Her wrinkled old nose told you she was surely not vain

She cooked her potions in pots, as some have said
Shed wasn’t afraid to cook a poor child’s head
Smiles were never seen on the old witches face
Villagers looked at her in utter disgrace

So when a child of tiny proportions
Was born with life threatening ill distortions
They hid her from the witch and her evil spells
Need be they’d hide the poor child in the village well

Sadly the child was slipping away
The underworld was preparing her a bed
The villagers and family, distraught and with dread
The tears of a mother flowed thinking child was dead

Sonnetta was in the forest so deep,
Contemplating life’s horrors and secretly she’d weep
For no child should leave the world this way
What could she do, with the villagers she held no sway

So she focused her herbs and potions and spells
To inspire her mind to conquer and quell
Her heart was bleeding for the child so blue
She knew that her magic this time might not do

In the black of night, as the clock struck twelve
She recited a hex and hoped, time would tell
By the morning of sun rise, the old witch new
In her dreams the child thanked her, and blessed her too

Child's health restored, her smile so new
This little girl saw the light and she knew
The villagers had no idea the hex that cured
This little girl one day, would tell her tail

High in the black forest, where miracles grow

Dedicated to Jessica, her sister and brother, three angels with smiles that reach to the heavens. 

Today they sang me a song; tomorrow I am sure they will change the world. 

A controversial topic for sure, however I will post a link, and regardless of your views, any time we save a child, well, I hope tiss not only I with tears.

Thank you Dr Sabba

scroll down to youtube video

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Sonnet | |


Mint was her first, a bow on a bonnet,
Lilac adorned her silk Christening gown,
Blue belted a costume, Queen Antoinette,
The velvet one in her journal was brown.

Seven purples she won for spelling bees,
Orange gave her dorm curtains a lift,
White clasped a bouquet sent by destiny,
Silver she fingered on wrapped, wedding gifts.

Yellow she added to an heirloom cradle,
Turquoise she tied around his teddy bear,
Black reserved a pew for her dad’s funeral...

Then chemo-red* saved a last strand of hair.

Ribbons she’s worn, as a girl then a wife,
The pink one she now wears celebrates life.

*Chemotherapy is often red-toned 

Dedicated to Evelina Sanchez, an angel I was fortunate enough to work with for two years. She retired and discovered she had breast cancer. She beat the beast that took her breast! We lost touch and I tried to find her, worrying that the monster had returned. Just ran into her last month (plans to get together!) She is now in her seventies and is as fit as a fiddle! Take that cancer!

Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan

Details | Sonnet | |

A Physical Therapist

Physical Therapy came in the door
To take him out in the wide hall to walk
He got to go places he hadn't been before
He saw folks that hadn't seen and to them talk

P.T. helped him get up so he wouldn't fall
Nurses came to help him take a shower
All obstacles placed against gray wall
Minutes upon minutes turned into hour

With just a normal old age human ear
We listened to noises in hall by day
If animal outside alerted by brey
Tightly enclosed in hospital room we couldn't hear

The situation sometimes made me feel
As if in this case I was simply third wheel

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

The Ulcerated Colon

       U.C. I
I wander through my dark--a mournful soul--
chastised--and to the point of no return,
from feeling I may die--an Earthly goal,,
with ev'ry beat of life--I sting and burn!

An acid feeling, borned from deep in me,
encompassing my ev'ry living cell--
and though I'm with the world--or seem to be--
all I've become--is what no words can tell

and searching for the peace--some where in space,
a tiny speck of hope--to pain no more--
until I'm brought back to the human race
by misery of what life has in store.

   And when I take the pause--I never know
   what ugliness my body's letting go.

        U.C. II
That vilest  of the vile--of all I've known--
lays tainted by the blood I hold so dear,
accompanied by mucous--or alone--
it shakes my heart right to my greatest fear.

Oh! Lord--lay not mine eyes--onto these things--
but what's been normal throughout all my youth,
such beauty's not beheld--until life brings--
the ugly passing on--of my uncouth!

And grant an understanding--of it all--
to those who never know the pain of it.
Yea--never might they have to climb the wall--
nor have to pray life lets them live a bit.

    If guilt be mine--I've paid ten thousand ways--
    enough to compensate--for all my days!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Sonnet | |


A wave that grows from deep inside of me
to bring me down--I feel it start to grow;
its' only name--is called--anxiety,
where it comes from--no one could ever know.

As tiny needles prick my skin--I feel
sensation of a drifting tenderness-- 
that goes from here to there--and so un-real--
it leads my mind to only second guess

at what's invading for the death of me,
and tingles from my fingers, to my toes--
abducted from my world of sanity,
I fall into a dark that no one knows.

And shaken to an end I can't embrace--
I feel its' kiss--but never see its' face.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Sonnet | |

My Sunflower Seed Addiction

It wouldn’t be considered gourmet food.
In fact, I’ve seen it eaten by a lout
who wore a baseball cap, and looking crude,
kept chewing it until he spat it out.

It hasn’t got the most delicious taste,
but cleverest of diet snacks I’ve tried,
its calories can’t be consumed in haste.
One cracks its shell to get the seed inside.

It’s high in protein, fiber, zinc and E
and sunshine’s D. . . I’m healthy as a bird!
And at the matinee, I have with me
a package (nacho flavored most preferred!) 

And since my fingers always have a need
to feed my face, I love my sunny seed!

Note: Sorry this is not a really emotional one
All my addictions seem to be pleasure centered and not too harmful!
Just to show you how addicted I was to nacho flavored sunflower seeds,
when they were discontinued by the company, I went around to every
gas station and grocery store in the valley and bought up every package
of them. It cost me around $85 and the 75 bags lasted only a year! Now I
eat the large ranch flavored ones!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |


A wave that grows from deep inside of me
to bring me down; I feel it start to grow;
its only name--is called--anxiety,
where it comes from, no one could ever know.

As tiny needles prick my skin I feel
sensation of a drifting tenderness 
that goes from here to there--and so un-real,
it leads my mind to only second guess

at what's invading to the all of me,
and tingles from my fingers, to my toes;
abducted from my world of sanity,
I fall into a darkness no one knows.

And shaken to an end I can't embrace,
I feel its kiss--but never see its face.
© Ron Wilson aka Ron Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa

Details | Sonnet | |

Addiction and Withdraw

Keep your liquor and your meth cigarettes;
stow away your needles and white powder.
My mind craves stimulation without sweats
caused by vices others choose for regrets.

Give me words, inky scrawl across a page,
the fluid cadence of a verbal dance
freeing the psyche from an iron cage
imprisoned by a mundane daily trance.

Prohibit fresh diction to discover
the foul temper that lies within my breast.
Prevent access to verse and uncover
an exhausted maudlin beast is expressed.

I get my fix within a library.
It’s cheap to be hooked onto poetry.

Copyright © Brittany Reynolds

Details | Sonnet | |


The heart it has joined us will take part,
And as we grow it shall and will strengthin,
But in time it will never stop changin,
Until then we may believe in its depart,
What we do with what we have to now start,
And as we live we just have to belevin’
Cause our heart is a gift from the heaven
So we should treasure our given beating heart
And we could give you some information
So then put you in the healthy food zone
Although we could just start a diet
Even though that happens through the nation
Also we are always changing our tone.
It’s as of now but I'm not buying it

Copyright © Alyssa Poliakon

Details | Sonnet | |

What Am I

Eyes catch images without any consent.
Brain decides itself convey waves to heart
Ear listens without interference then why 'm smart?
The process is natural it seems I'm infant.
Poor and helpless, waiting for a period of lent.
Who 'm I why do I commit I control something?
Who there hides? What makes my body sting?
Why do I feel different after a chant?
My legs command me walk forward with what support!
My arm rounds in the air me nowhere my doubt.
I don't know who operates me from system far away,
I feel sick, go to doctor my prescription finds a tray,
Education fails to assess my mind I enjoy dreams.
What is my role, where am I, nowhere it seems?

Copyright © Daljit Khankhana

Details | Sonnet | |

To A Child Who Has A Disorder

Children with an illness,
Go through life,
They are looked down apon,
Because they are different,
When really they are not,
They are no different from  you and me,
They have the same blood,
Running through their bodies,
Just as their hearts as well,
So, don't just look apon,
Their outer appearance,
And judge them,
For who they really are,
For a lot of them,
Are smarter and brighter,
Than you and I,
Could possibly be,
On our brightest day,
For they have the gifts,
From God up above,
So, always take the time,
To get to know their inner beauty,
For who they really are,
Cause they too need love,
Just as everyone else does,
If not even more.

Copyright © John Hembree

Details | Sonnet | |

A View From A Hospital Room

Checked the small view from hospital room I did
Doing this deed was just a simple thing
View top of trees but bottom half woods hid
Windows in building right, sun_ clouds mirroring

How many persons from car wreck slain
Thinking continues noise from hall distress
View draws me in_to outside once again
Are the crows high in nest now comfortless

Will my love whom on my bosom kept
Be kept safe_God will heal I am quite
Sure, even though now the time light has crept
The deciding factor will be tonight

At our home will he come once again to face
All the love and happiness in this place

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

What's Cooking Good Looking

with muse in hand
a romantic longing is the plan
dinner at eight
I hope he won't be late

sherry filled to the rim
soft music for us to spin
candles on the mantel
slight ring of dinner bell

waft of curry stuffed chops
and potatoes creamy and hot
buttermilk biscuits on the side
and dessert for which he decides

this is how mom said to get to a mans heart
with a romantic dinner from the very start

Tribute To Romance

Also Entry For
Laura Mckenzie's
A Romantic Longing Contest

GL All

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Sonnet | |

Gulf Oil Spill

Our ecosystem and wildlife can no longer be ignored
The devastation caused by the Gulf oil spill must vastly be restored

As anger and frustration surges across the Coast
The depletion of our environment, indeed we fear the most

Several past months, many lives have been erased
In the midst of these disasters, we can only look to faith

Now let us pay a visit to some underlying factors
Volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, and other natural disasters

It was not in their intention for a high tech failed invention
Yell still they don't take into account the consequences of their actions

Efforts to contain this oil spill is more doltish than we have known
What more massive debacles can this single Earth condone?

Many local residents are now suffering from depressions
So think about what lies ahead, our future generations


Copyright © Rashana King

Details | Sonnet | |

A Bubble Blown Up With Breath

I will tell of love in fourteen short lines
Remember when you chipped bone in kneecap
So much pain for you and me nothing fine
Knee pain for you for me nausea trap

You had surgery, nausea had me
One baby in arms another womb bound
When you came home, total care you no glee
Beside chamber nausea vomit round

Daily existence for weeks ugly trap 
Baby, husband's care between nausea
Holding baby my only relief gap
Situation had me deep undersea

Love is deep when one gives beyond their strength
Giving beyond the call of duty is youngth

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

Sweats and Sweets

Oh dear I completely misunderstood,
When they offered me a sweat, thought they meant a pud.
Meet us at the gym they said, thought, strange place to eat,
For a free meal  I could endure  the smell of sweaty feet.

Here’s your towel said the lady, took it with surprise,
opened the door to find a host of sweating thighs.
Bodies grunting everywhere, buzzing like flies
Where’s my sweet I asked, can’t print their replies.

Now I gathered was not pudding my friends offered me,
But a sweaty time in the gym to lose the fat I see.
Promised some chocolate  if I manage to get thinner,
Not quite what I envisaged  after my roast dinner.

So here I am sweat pouring  from a thinner me
Happy ‘cos they are letting me have a biscuit with my coffee.


Details | Sonnet | |

Tears at My Age

For all the tears we’ve wept, for all of those we’ve lost.
We’ll weep again some more, as we’re told we matter not.
You know they will not say it, but it’s there within their eyes.
The old and frail aren’t welcome, as they’re steadily pushed aside.

If you don’t believe me, then at a party get up as if to dance.
Mouths will gawk and eyes will roll as they come to set us back.
They’ll act like we’re so shameful, as we laugh, and have some fun.
Then they’ll come to guide us to a chair somewhere in the background.

Our wisdom isn’t needed; they’re far too superior for that.
They can’t respect the old ones' thoughts, who're out of date, in fact.
Of course they want our money, and will gladly scope out our homes.
And they want us to beleaguer ourselves so they can go happily on.

But where is the regard that they say our age is due…
Too often it’s in a distant Nursing home no one will ever drive to.

This is dedicated to all those lost souls left in Nursing Homes whom no one
ever visits.

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Sonnet | |

Hope Of Renewal

As the last rose petal falls swiftly down
The last of the great roses of summer
What a great summer that was lived_you known
Rose had much character an affirmer

Fall approaches with sure desolation
Only bare branches with prickly thorns left
Mocking Bird nest with nesting cessation
Protected by the Rose as in a  cleft

Used up_bare waiting for winter's cold breath
Not knowing what this winter chill will bring
As the petals flood onto the ground_death
Hope awaits but winter comes with its sting

Will the sap rise again coursing through vine
Revitalization __ one  bud sure sign

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

My Love Affair with Poetry

Nights when I’m alone,
Icy wind flittering through the window,
The absent warmth of love echoing in my empty room,
I have frequent love affairs with poetry.
Its pulsating words gush themselves out on the white blank page,
It caresses my every emotion,
Sending me reeling through a torrent of multiple ecstasy,
I scream with release as every unhinged secret is documented rhythmically, 
After, subdued by unthinkable shame,
I stash it away with the refreshing slide of a closed drawer,
I light up a cigarette and lie within the sheets like a film star,
I am who I choose to be,
Husband rings, why don’t I answer the phone?
I’m having an affair with poetry. 

Copyright © Tabitha Hollis

Details | Sonnet | |

The Line Between

O God, the pangs are crushing body, soul
And spirit—working deaths where sunlight fades— 
My arms are trunks of pain and taking toll, 
While tortures, stings, and sickness hauntly raids
To close the Gates of Hell to shut me in,
And heaven bows to greet while Hades seeks
To send The Reaper with his failing grin.
And illness ruins lives while havoc wreaks
The squalored throes of daily living on—
While body wastes away and breath remains
To sing your dirge while I still carry on…
Like trampling cattle trodding broken frame,
I live between the sunshine and the grave—
Like flowers cut and dying in the vase

Copyright © J.R. Dawson