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Life Sonnet Poems | Sonnet Poems About Life

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

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Details | Sonnet |

His Life, His Love: Sailor's Moon

Above a cloud, in soundless, still tumescence,
a goddess rests; below her is the sea.
A strip of it is rippling luminescence,
a path of light in night’s serenity.
A solitary boat now passes through
the lane of radiance.  One man regards
the sky and ocean, both a cobalt blue,
and ponders inspiration of the bards.

For what could man want more than such as this -
-the tranquilness of dark in Luna’s glow!
At times he longs to taste a woman’s kiss
though he embraced this life so long ago. . . 

His gaze is fixed on her who shines above. 
He chose the sea. . . and moon became his love.

For PD's 
the moon- old/new poemsPoetry Contest


Details | Sonnet |

Stay

Be not the passioned faith that fails to stay
When driven back and beaten to the ground,
Then compensated with a weed bouquet
Or self lamenting gift of thorny crown.
Be not the selfish soul that slips and falls
While treading down the mossy path you've laid,
Avoiding faithful friends when last they called
And fearful of the truth you now evade.
Arise and brush self pity from your brow.
You are the child of all that God hath sown,
And all the gifts with which you are endowed,
Bequeathed from each and all that you have known.
   So stay, yet humbled, in this wind so strong,
   Respectful of the fact you could be wrong.


Shakespearean Sonnet--Iambic Pentameter
By Craig Cornish


Details | Sonnet |

A Painter's Pine

The void calls through gossamer veils and widow's peak. Shifty-eyed now of necessity I lie, bone-wrapped in rosaries black as my rheumy eyes, death speaks. Uncomforted by down or velvet, role trapped corseted, board stiff with age like calf skin vellum peeled and bloodied by the dual edged knife of man. The scene is set and I shall not whimper, as do some, or call to God, or blame the fates of those whose clans remain earth-bound, when I have left this mortal glade. Pigment on canvass, linseed loosed, stretchers taut, displayed, all of this, I've had a plenty, and been royally paid. My life was art, and it was art that fanned my life's flame. So, stretch me on the pine boards and lay my edges down; monochrome me in umber, drench me in shades of brown.
Self Portrait See About the Poem


Details | Sonnet |

White Lace

Winter cloaked in the whitest lace
Spreads its folds across the land
Transforming the earth's tired face
In beauty she makes her quiet stand

For those who weep for summer lost
And long for days of idle breath
Those days come at winter's cost 
She sings the songs of living death

For naught we argue with the wind
And rail at ice that will not weep
Hoping these days will soon rescind
And her buried promises  keep

Winter dances with solemn grace
Dressed in her white gown of lace



Details | Sonnet |

Memento mori

The bells call forth from mighty tower keeps 
To herald passing souls from here to there 
The orange sun upon the hilltop creeps 
It crucifies night's cold and blind despair

And light of day itself may also bluff  
The flower blooms and will too soon dissolve 
There is no virtue virtuous enough 
To ban the steady tide of death's resolve 

If permanence is just a fleeting dream, 
Why burden every man and child fair? 
To ask is chasing shadows down a stream 
Fall not into the well of when or where 

These words are written clear for all to see: 
What I am now you too shall one day be


Details | Sonnet |

The Writer

The candle burns down long into the night
Its life waning in a flickering flame
As I etch these ink stains of black on white
On pages that will never be the same

For I will fill this empty space with gold
Treasures - my soul now feels the need to share
Before the embers in this fire grow cold 
I give to you these precious gems so rare

And when this candle dies and darkness falls
My pen will finally rest without regret
Left with the knowledge that I gave it all
My life in words until my dying breath
                      
And in death I will live forevermore
For the pen is mightier than the sword

                        ~~~~~



Written:  April 15, 2011
Elaine Geroge

The Famous quotation 'The pen is mightier than the sword' was written by:
Edward Buliver-Lytton in 1839.  Those words still live on today, proving that the pen truly is, mightier than the sword.

 
First place: Brian Strand's 14 line contest
First place:  Razzle Dazzle Contest sponsored by Linda-Marie

 


Details | Sonnet |

The Memoir

Here in the final pages of her life			
She stops to rest a spell on empty lines		
Reflecting on the chapters left behind		
In valleys of a mind deep in contrite		
Where shadows battle with a blinding light		
Conflicting egos fighting on through time		
Their argument life’s reason and life’s rhyme	
They battle for the end that she must write	  	
Two equal pens held tightly in her hand		
Tears mingle with the ink spots on the page			
One pen telling truth one pen telling lies		
Her bleeding words like footprints in the sand		
On lines between a novice and a sage					
One pen she puts to death before she dies

                     ~~~
	
Author:  Elaine George
Written: April 20th, 2014
For Miltonic Sonnet Contest sponsored by: Craig Cornish	

Awarded:  First Place


Details | Sonnet |

Painted Echoes

A wash of gold adorns the westward sky
as waning light departs a summer’s eve;
in readiness to roost, crows cease to fly
and seek their resting place among the leaves.

Past toasted rooftops, twilight bids the sun
must softly slip away to realms afar,
with liquid grace, sun-kisses fall undone            
and drench the dusk in honey-toned memoir.

Time lengthened shadows whisper to the moon,
enticing her to wear her slender smile.
With reticence, she answers to their tune,
enriching night’s black canvass for a while…

still wearing notes of summer-sweet bouquet,
recalled from painted echoes of the day.


Details | Sonnet |

Into The Gloaming

As daylight dims against a crimson sky
And evening star dust lightly dots the blue
And yesterday into tomorrow flies -
Like life, the twilight fades in different hues.

So bright the early days, then quickly gone
Like ships in freshened wind we gladly sailed
And through the midst of life forgot the dawn
As innocence of dreams became unveiled.

Each day the pages turn till end of time,
A story told and written as we pass,
So all that we have touched becomes entwined
And carried on beyond the very last.

We carry all we love along the way
Into the gloaming at the end of day.


Shakespearean Sonnet


Details | Sonnet |

FIREWORKS, A SONNET FOR LINDA MARIE


Exquisite, this expectation as dusk

mellows each ruffle on her robe de style*,

warm her expressions, candid, unrushed

for lake waters return that sunny smile.



A hem trails the shore with tulles of twilight,

overcome, the hush of angels almost cries   

at grace in upsweeps and poise held as night

steals her away with a sorrowed sigh.   



Dark this vista til she yields her jewels,

moonstone and topaz, citrine and ruby,

all her wisdom to forever unfurl 
 
in fireworks, a blaze of poetry.   



Love left its mark, Heaven is now altered

by a flourish that brightens even the stars.






*** We will miss you, Linda Marie, but your poetry, light, love of life, will continue to live on... GODSPEED....

* A Robe de style is a long gown with a wide, billowing skirt 


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