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Sonnet Holiday Poems | Sonnet Poems About Holiday

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Goodbye Old Friends

Friends come and go, but some have passed me by
as swiftly as the sun that lights my days.
They wave goodbye; I give a little sigh.
It seems I barely had them in my gaze.

Sweet friends I knew from youth. Where have you gone?
My bonds with some of you I felt were strong.
But journeys that we each embarked upon
divided us, and now I write this song.

Its lyrics tell the longings of my heart -
to see and be again with each dear friend
who knew me when and shared a special part
which cannot be retrieved nor has an end,
for memories are shadows cast by sun
which haunt me even when my days are done.


By Andrea Dietrich
For Giorgio V's A favorite poem of yours! (Old/New) Contest


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Long Goodbyes

Voices choral, chimes of clay ring out
oh so merrily to a wintry sky
And earthen sounds once silent, still, now shout
in harmony and majesty, they cry. 

A brightness sheers the air as metal sounds,
long cylinders of brass clink in the breeze
like childish laughter each fresh note abounds
a thankful note the past year to appease.

In churches, mosques and temples they sing
as clappers sound the tone around their rims
forged of metal, or blown in glass, they ring
resounding as the hours of this year dim.
  
Rejoice, rejoice a New Year has begun
Goodbye they toll and sing here comes the sun.


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Winter's Kiss

The bird’s house is capped with a snow drop.
The bird’s bath is a mushroom like form.
The branches all groan, snap, crackle, pop,
with the weight of the night’s snow so borne.

The cat’s on the rug near kitchen vent.
The furnace is pumping out more heat.
The tea kettle’s whistling with intent.
The old gal settles down with a sweet.

The car’s all shrouded, a sheet of white.
The trellis is a grand work of art.
Outdoors the benches all gleam with ice.
The new moon’s a rare, randy, upstart.

Darkness descends will a muffled whisper.
She sips tea and remembers who’s kissed her.


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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.


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Enigma Of Time

Arriving there, open door to floors bare
Moist was air, dwelling effusive with peace
The enigma of time began to cease
Oblivion to all but ocean, just stare

Simplicity for a few days; nowhere
To go, timeless, watch Gulls instead of Geese
Yesterday's ravenous problems release
Now live on sublime seaside oasis' air

Aster, Willow won't sway in zephyr this day
Only kaleidoscope color 'pon water shone
Exquisite view for me, myself, alone
This ecstasy delight not auspice by they

Lilac, Lily doesn't bloom, chrome rust away
Impervious bug repellent glistens in defiant stone

Contest: Secret


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Holiday Lights

Here on display, one million twinkling lights Brilliant designs with colors that delight All for a holiday that’s met with heart Giving is the key, sharing is the part Bulbs that are used vary from year to year Started with larger, bulky ones endeared Now becoming many smaller ones shown Lovely LED’s ignites the unknown Beauty is the key word, collection’s bright Covering all of my house that’s in sight Top layer solid blue, the middle…red The bottom is the Christmas green that’s said Each color shown in their separate parts Shines as one in the end, bright to impart
Russell Sivey


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Christmas Wishes for You

For anyone struggling in the holiday season!!

Although there's nothing much that I could add
to all the Christmas wishes ever made,
I'll wish for you that traffic won't be bad
the day you shop and that you may get paid
some kind of Christmas bonus for a change,
and when beneath the mistletoe you stand,
I hope you're not approached by someone strange,
but rather by a stranger who is grand!
And should you be so childish (I mean bold)
to ice skate on a lake or board the snow,
I pray for you that you don't catch a cold
or break a leg as down some hill you go.
My wishes, like my gifts, are kind of cheap;
May faith in them require no giant leap!


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Recollections of a Celtic Ghost

For eons, as a spirit on this earth
I’ve dwelt; I still recall the autumn‘s cold
when I was human on this new year’s birth,
that “hallowed eve” when spirits would grow bold!

Our homes were unlit and uninviting
lest spirits might possess our souls that night.
We’d gather round the fire priests were lighting
and whooped like ghouls to give the ghosts a fright!

Through time, I‘ve seen such changes, and a drought!
I followed my descendants to the shore
of this America.  Here kids go out
on their new “Halloween” from door to door.

My kin had wrongly feared the likes of me.
This night is mostly about the candy!

By Andrea Dietrich

For Russell Sivey's
Halloween Fun Contest


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Angel Dust

The creatures that could fly, flew out this night They brought forth their powers, with them their might The black dragon is largest on the list They are the strongest, waving their clawed fist Next would have to be the fairies so trim Wielding dark talents purely on a whim The dark gargoyles fly around with great ease Spreading the fear of death and dire disease As sure as you think the darkness would win An angel flies high, way up in heaven She saves the Earth from all evil around Drops down some angel dust right to the ground And quick as a flash evil leaves this place Angels left to sing the beauty of grace
Russell Sivey Entrant into Gail Doyle's "Angel Dust" contest 10/9/2012


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Silver Moon

The silver moon hides behind the grey clouds Largely hidden, full of life, and quite proud The werewolf howls great and mighty tonight Brings fear to many, showing lots of fright Lit pumpkins at the entrance brings warning Where hollers are heard that are alarming The pumpkins guard an old house, house of fear Legends hold victims galore in its rear Within the graveyard they’re held without bail Their souls removed, their life was very frail Turned into animated skeletons They roam the cold cemetery commons The light was quite dim, as the moon peeked through In the dark night creatures will come for you
Russell Sivey


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Valentine's need apply

I gave up on you years ago
Felt love in my life had to go
Felt free and strong without care
Never needing wanting another there

Life has changed so much since then
Looking inside I take to pen
Wonder have I grown up yet
To include something more than a pet

Another February comes to be
Alone again hello, just me 
Valentine's day it comes and goes
Will I again receive a rosé? 

Will this be the year I'm ready to see
If someone can share their life with me?


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INTO THANKSGIVING

An inspiration left me,
Gone out of my sight,
Her I hardly ever see,
Be it day or night.

When we talk together,
We seldom ever say
How it is I've met her,
Each and every day.

When we walk together,
Out to the points end,
I know that when I'm with her,
I'll always have a friend.

So as we start into Thanksgiving,
Thanks to "that" which gives us living.


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Wearing of the Green

We wear the green, St. Patrick's Day,
In honor of the Irish Saint
Who chased all of the snakes away
And bade them not to come again.
An Irishman without complaint,
Will celebrate in pouring rain.

The shamrock pinned on colleen's dress
And found in every Irish home
Was plant St. Patrick used to bless
And explain the Holy Trinity.
On every path where he would roam
He walked in meek humility.

We wear the green St. Patrick's Day,
The shamrock pinned on colleen's dress.

3/12/14




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Beautiful Lies

December 18, 2012

Beautiful lies known as little white lies
yet one is no more deceptive than each
The truth is what makes it afraid of light
It's important we practice what we preach

Imagination built on lies destroy
Imagination built on truth create
Conquering evil we try to avoid
Tooth fairy, Halloween, Santa abate

Perceptions and images make it real
Origins of Pagan rituals true
We've wandered down this path for a bum deal
Now more lies are created all brand new

The mask behind a beautiful white lie
is the truth with a constant shield, but why?


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A Valentine Sonnet

Oh, how lonely might I be this sad year? With no chocolates, love, or Valentine. . . A Halloween at home, Christmas, no cheer, Now February, with none to call mine ! So will I spend it sadly, bored, at home, Writing, or reading, or browsing the 'net? Spend a lovers holiday all alone- Distracting myself, hoping to forget. 'Least without chocolate, I won't gain weight. And the flowers would just wilt anyway! And it cost money to go on ONE date, So why do I care, it's only one day. . 'Cause Cupid shot not an arrow, but dart, Oh, and I want to be someone's sweet heart!


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Winters Blanket

Within ashen sky, glistening falling flakes flow.
I hear them, whispering gently to and fro,
Not saying a word, they speak gently to me.
Telling me of beauty above, I’ll never see.
Each one a different wonder of life’s bliss,
Rendering, touching crystal clarity, not to miss,
Surrendering glory of nature, with snow,

Before my eyes, smothering green, glittering so
Lazily lying upon all, silvery frosty covers adrift,
Announcing another season, arriving now swift.
Now the sound of crunching, an allegory,
Kidnaping moment, amidst such glory,
Each day continuing, upon nightfall glisten,
True sensations, winters blanket disposition.


written by Cecil Hickman

date written 11-19-12


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Heavy Halloween

*Heavy Halloween 

Atlanta 1997, my first visit to America I recall
I went with a friend called joyous Jessica 
With no real intention of “dressing up” at all 
But to see and know what Halloween is after all.
There came a beautiful girl Iris and asked me
If I wanted my face to be painted for Halloween play.
Nodding I consented, I don’t know why till today
She painted my face as nothing in particular to see.

Ah, the experience of looking into her eyes blue
Touching her alluring body almost to the full
And she touched my heart while she painted
It was the beginning of relationship wonderful 
What a sweetheart! What a heavy Halloween fool!
Wherever you’re, Iris, with love I’m still painted.

===============================================
Heavy meaning wonderful

Dr. Ram Mehta
Fifth Place win in:
Contest: Holiday hearth by Linda-Marie, the sweetheart of the PS


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Pumpkins Swelled

Outside his home a Geek finds a surprise Three lit pumpkins desiring compromise They wanted people to know their power He soon found them giving him a shower The evil resonates from deep inside Each Jack-O-Lantern shows off its great pride Fear that one experiences from each A fresh heart is just what they do beseech The Geek not knowing his untimely fate Approached the pumpkins which he fears of late Pumpkins swelled and grew absorbing his soul He fell, leaving his mark right on the knoll Halloween is not what it used to be When children walked around getting candy
Russell Sivey Entrant into Cyndi MacMillan's "TIMELESS YET CONTEMPORARY, A SONNET THANG" contest


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Kamikaze Khristmas

I was shaken, my jingle bells taken, ornaments on a runaway corporate sleigh
It had nitrous oxide, investors selling so high, stuffing stockings with my pay
There were elves with cleavage, garters and high heels, twirling on candy canes
And then there was Santa, 10,000 I fathom, having a Bud and watching the game

Oh what have I done, my mistletoe belt buckle undone, clutching a coupon in pain
From my confusion arose, a few sticky ho ho’s, caroling Christmas has come again
Frozen my chatter, this rooftop never fatter, held hostage by a holiday of cheer
Building superstores for a thrill, reindeer on the grill, our 24 hour savior is here

I threw open the door, red tagged a commercial whore, a price check I was needing
Not to my surprise, this place had supersize fries, and just a hint of insider breeding
Cross-eyed speaking, restroom reeking, why the see-through thong with the GPS
Kamikaze carts diving, my crippled heels crying, damn you people for having sex

Bruised and battered, a world raptured, by a fat man with a bulging sack
Barbies with inflatable boobies, Hentai movies, Christ please hurry back


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A Soilders Sacrifice

A Soilders Sacrifice


Freedom for our country does not come for free
Each individual soilder gave his all for you and me
Leaving all behind, not knowing if our soilder would come home
Many family members sitting by the phones

Some soilders came back and his eyes wonder in space
We want to embrace them and the memories erase
God bless the soilders that did not return
The whole nation with your families forever mourns

The sacrifices that were made, soilders have to be tough
Our nation could never thank you enough
The soilder will always be a soilder within
Would not even think twice about it, would serve again

Yes, freedom for our country does not come for free
Each individual soilder gave his all for you and me


Fourth Of July poem
June 22, 2012


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Chilled Winter

Once copious, my heart, like trees lie bare.
Beneath dark skies are bursts of white despair
as winter chill takes toil down fallow road.
I can't remember warmth of times bestowed.

Take what you will from winter's stormy thrill,
but I shall hibernate in summer still.
Flamed tea nor fireplace can warm me not.
Not even spring can thaw this frigid spot.

Within this crypt, ‘neath gelid canopy,
on frozen bed, death lays and waits for me.
Slow beating pulse to hold this dormant state,
for it's my heart the frost did desecrate.

If set afire, still, I'll shiver through.
Not even flames will melt my heart like you.


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Scenes of Boogiemen and Vampires

Night is suffocating with lots of fear Scenes of boogiemen and vampires quite near A haunted house sits on top of a hill Where spiders scatter about on the sill A single light is lit in upstairs room Looking frightful as if to spell some doom Lightning flashes to reveal a graveyard Where the dead lives again in his backyard The pathway up to the dark front entrance Is littered with Jack-O-Lanterns that dance There are snakes that wait for one to walk by So they can strike at him, cause him to die The whole land smells of great fear and of fright Bad place to visit on Halloween night
Russell Sivey


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THANKS GIVING


Flushed and bent, she mashes their turnips

with hands that once were soft, manicured,

while steam rises like memories, obscuring

her pickled kitchen. Beyond glass, fall nips

at the rose bush, takes its last bloom. Music

wanders from the now crowded front parlor,

the small, polished room that becomes duller
  
each year, chintz aging, wood showing nicks.

The tune bids; she recalls a long ago harvest

when a boy blushed as he asked her to dance

at the fair. The rhapsody and a new romance

boldly twirled her champagne chiffon dress.

Suddenly, she’s back on that floor, love swept,

for her feet never forgot those long ago steps. 


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Christmas Mass

      CHRISTMAS MASS
Dear holy child, I celebrate your birth,
and wonder at the bright and shining star,
that leads to all the joy and peace on earth
we all look for, and it is where you are.

Yes I will light a candle in your name
on Christmas morning, when I'm all alone,
and say a prayer into the burning flame
to thank you for the gift too few have known.

You are my bright and shining star, you know,
throughout my life, in everything I do,
The gift of love is all I have,and so,
I wrap my love in candlelight for you,
Amen...
       ©  ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa


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Holiday Mishaps

The room looks over and starts to chuckle.
An oddly beautiful stream of cider
Erupting from the nose of my uncle.
Kids waiting for a Christmas night rider,

All hoping to finally see Saint Nick.
Aunty Mary stands up and starts to twirl,
Nigh knocking over a lamp, she stops quick,
And she instead flattens the nearest girl.

Family running to see if she is fine,
We end up running into each other.
Dinner’s done, I head for the starting line,
And I’m elbowed in the face by brother.

It wouldn’t be family, well I assume,
Lack a trip to the emergency room.


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Pass the Ketchup, Please

A tradition in our house on New Year’s Day each year
Black eyed peas on your dinner plate will appear
A dish guaranteed to bring you good luck
If you want it all year you better eat them all up

I am not a fan of those black eyed peas
So smother them in onions and ketchup, if you would please
Doctored up this way I will consume the whole bowl
For the good luck that they bring has made me a fortunate soul

So, once a year I will eat those nasty legumes
And if I really am lucky …
    … next New Year’s Day will not get here too soon




For the "Traditions" contest


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Vacation Spot

Spenserian sonnet

To Trundle Beach we turn to find our fun
with fam'ly on vacation ev'ry June.
Relaxing, romping, ready for some sun,
we traipse the trails with youngsters before noon

then nestle down for babys' naptime croon.
We find the time for each of our four boys,
yet treasure time alone, a honeymoon.
It's tough adjusting to the constant noise.

When adolescents share their digi-toys
we feel our age; they show us how to text.
No way we can compete with cyber joys.
We've pondered year by year, "What can come next?"

When June has passed and gone, we beg for rest
with mixed emotions, we leave Trundle blessed.

9 - 10


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Christ's Mass

    CHRIST'S MASS
Dear holy child,  I celebrate your birth,
and wonder at your bright and shining star,
that leads to needed joy of peace on earth
we all look for, and it is where you are.

So I will light some candles in your name
on Christmas morning, when I'm all alone.
I'll say a prayer into the burning flame
to thank you for your gift too few have known.

You are my bright and shining star, you know,
throughout my life, in everything I do,
the gift of love is all I have, and so,
I wrap my love in candlelight for you.
Amen
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


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A Ghostly Boo

 Pitter Patter on my wall, who is it
 I hear call.

 In my room I sit alone
 but I hear you send me a
 friendly bong.

 Are you telling me a tale
 of all who has stayed here alone
 as well.

 Oh my friendly titter tatter,
 won't you tell me what is a
 matter.

 Are you lonesome too? or is it
 just a ghostly boo.
 Asking me to notice you.


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Of Love & Mistletoe

"I've decked the den with palm and scarlet socks,
the tree is radiant with golden glow,
and though I've emptied all our Christmas stock,
I saw no sign of last year's mistletoe."

"Let not your Yule be marred by such a thing:
if we were poor, would not you still be sweet?
The heavens' angels would not cease to sing,
nor would my sentiment for you deplete."

"Perhaps, but surely such a saint astute
perceives the plant as more than just some twig.
Tradition brims within its ivory fruit,
and so I think the plant a sprightly sprig."

"It matters not what couples kiss beneath,
so long as love be what conceives their wreath!"


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Haunted House

There is a green monster under my bed
A man is hanging from beneth the stair
From the cailing there is blood dripping red
A horrid bat just flew into my hair
A green glow is leaking up from the floor
There's a white ghost on the cemetary
This frightful house is much more than a bore
Even the buttler says to the contrary
I will show you in a lovely tour
Here is where we have our torture chamber
But wait, don't leave, upstairs there is much more
Here is our spider traped in old amber
All the creepy crawleys came to say, "Boo!"
Here is a cell we prepared for you!


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Aire Kingdom

The way stretches forward, the infinity path
Every shape well defined, by the certainty of math
Great ferns surround, curved in huge Fibonacci arcs
While trees, gods of forest, are discontinuities in bark

The air is still and it's gentle touch oddly cool
And a visiting writer would lie about a pool
And a nymph.  Or a vast Aire kingdom on high:
Beauty's present as the trees, though concealed from the sky

I followed her here, for where else would she dwell
Not hidden away in some black and white cell
The most perfect line, shaping me and my soul
Once my love now my breath, my quest takes a great toll

This cool jungle is our home as I try to define her:
I'm a textbook on the harm of obsession's spur.


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Halloween Night

Her skin is pale white, and she has very dark eyes. Most of what she tells me has to be lies. She has the most cadaverous complexion. In the mirror, I can never see her reflection. I never felt a woman so cold to the touch. She would not be here if I didn’t love her so much. Here was the next question I wanted to say: “Why is it that I never see you outside in the day?” She responded with, “What is your type, A, B, or O?” I answered her honestly with “I really don’t know”. She then said, “I’m so glad I have found you first. Right now, I have to find a way to quench my thirst”. Well, that was the last thing I heard her say. I just got up in a hurry and ran away.


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A Tale Of Two Tales

Santa was good to me when six years old
Several presents for me, blessed was I 
Bike under tree and I had never rode
Learned to ride that day, felt that I could fly

Then again when I was fourty-seven
Received bicycle as a Christmas gift
On that bike could fly like wind_ enliven
On it once more downhill moved so swift

Then there was slight accident on that bike
Pain and agony ended up being end
Surgery for injured back was my plight
Never road that bike again; there's more, friend

Three bikes in life, I've been blessed to posses
I've told two tales; one more poem due, I guess.

Sponsor: Gwendolen R
Contest: My Bicycle

                                      
                                       
                             
                          
                            


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Chasing Rainbows

Today, all day, my Irish leprechaun
We get our chance to catch you if we can.
You hold the secrets of hidden treasures.
This time we will use successful measures.
For most, we’ll sit in pubs all day and hunt
for you in greenish stout from favorite haunts
Along the way. What fools we mortals be
That think at rainbows end we’ll find the key
To gold and sundry riches in a pot.
Hah! All that’s found are fractured dreams and sots.
From time immemorial fools have tried
In vain to follow dreams of gold worldwide.
Thus, chasing dreams and dodgy rainbows
Makes one lose sight of what’s under your nose.