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Sonnet Memory Poems | Sonnet Poems About Memory

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

Leaf

Floating down with grace and ease
Carried off by the Autumn breeze
Rich in hues of orange and red
Landing in the flower bed

What once was buzzing full of life
Now succumbs to the pruning knife
Staring up at the wilted rose
Another season comes to close

Looking for memories of this day
Not forgetting her fun filled stay
Lying amongst the rocks and sticks
I'm the one the little girl picks

Hurries home with the one she took
Placing it in her poetry book



8/05/2014

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

Yesterday's Joys

The Old Refrain

Where have they gone, the simple days of old?
Though filled with toil, their melody was sweet—
A blending of the common joys that hold
That special place in memory's retreat:
Warm home fires burning, families gathered close,
The day chores done, the evening shared with zest,
That tranquil peace that hovered to disclose
Life's humble ways and means were surely best.

But now the complex song of modern man
So filled with discord drowning out the good
Of basic joys inherent in life's plan,
Makes happiness a gift misunderstood.

And why must progress hush the old refrain
To play this frantic tune we so disdain?

© Sandra M. Haight 2014 
   All Rights Reserved

~4th Place~
Contest: Pick a Title: Yesterday’s Joys
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

A Penny For Your Thoughts

“The heart hath its own memory, like the mind, and in
It are enshrined the precious keepsakes, into which is
Wrought the giver’s loving thought.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Dear Treasure Chest

Invaluable is tender love’s domain,
that ruby red that lies beneath the breast.
But just as precious is the treasure chest
which houses our intelligence - the brain.
With memories exquisite to retain,
this coffer is the one that serves us best.
And likely we’ll not know how well we’re blessed
till luster of our keepsakes starts to wane.
The ruby oft is lost; we pay a toll.
Yet time and time again, that gem we find.
Not so within the storehouse of our soul
when strands of fond remembrances unwind.
Dear treasure chest of which we’ve no control,
what good the heart when pearls fade from the mind?

For the contest of Sara Kendrick


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

A Penny For Your Thoughts

"The best things in life come in threes . . . friends, dreams and memories" Author unknown _____________________ Old and new friends are gems to cherish in my heart, In my darkest hours friends have held me close; Although in time we may be miles and miles apart They have listened with tears to my sad grieving prose. All my days are reverie and my nights lost in dreams, And with my dripping pen I create my poetry; With dream inspired words, lines, emotions and themes, Sorrow has made me the poet I was meant to be. Ah, memories, memories so bittersweet, In my mind I see our old house amongst the trees; I have memories of mom's tangled garden seat, Of bright, heavenly flowers waving in the breeze. And through the years I have learned life is deep, Entangled with friends, dreams and memories to keep. ______________________________ March 14, 2015 Sonnet For the contest, A Penny For Your Thoughts, sponsor, Sara Kendrick Theme - Deep thoughts Third Place

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

I Remember Fierce Storm That Blew My Life Apart

I Remember Fierce Storm That Blew My Life Apart

I remember fierce storm that blew my life away.
Images burned into a sad, finely tortured mind;
reminds me of that epic and dark fateful day,
tears falling down but no good answers could I find.

So in love with my sweetheart but soon hope gave way,
when drug induced Nirvana flew into our home.
Easy now to see it in slow motion replay,
when I groped in darkness wherever I dared roam.

Raging clouds gathered within the uncertain West
as thunder spilled over into each haunting hour.
No joy in simply knowing that I did my best,
while I saw the destruction of my wild flower!

I remember fierce storm that blew my life apart.
Its massive crushing winds destroyed my aching heart.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-11-2016

Form- Sonnet, I used 12 syllables instead of ten.

Syllables Per Line:	
12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12 12 12 0 12 12
Total # Syllables:	168
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	124

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Seeking The Refuge Of Great And Airy Dreams

Seeking The Refuge Of Great And Airy Dreams

Slumbrous my mind glides off into another place
seeking the refuge of great and airy dreams.
Yet always, always appears my darling your face
shining sweetly your bright smile that always beams.

There we walk together on soft dewy grass
our time romancing amongst the ancient trees.
Far too swiftly, dear fleeting time seems to pass
my heart asking for more in sad, futile pleas!

As gaunt shadows race to invade our retreat
time drinks its water from our heavenly stream.
Alas! I can never that racing clock beat
Or hold the glow of our love's softest moonbeam!

I that willfully fight the coming of day.
Beg my soul, in this dream to forever stay!

Robert J. Lindley, 07-19- 2015

Note: Sonnet- 11 syllable verse.

(1.) http://www.collinsdictionary.com/dictionary/english/slumbrous

slumberous ('sl?mb?r?s ; -br?s)  or or slumbrous ('sl?mbr?s) 
Definitions
adjective  (mainly poetic)
sleepy; drowsy
inducing sleep
characteristic of slumber

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Memories of good old days

Memories of good old days


When memories give you tears, 
you sit, there is nowhere to go,
and you have the worst of fears,
Can you ever retain your glow ?

Those nostalgic evening walks,
drives in the dark that made crazy,
stuck in mind like stubborn plaques,
Can those pictures ever go hazy ?

Engraved in marble you can't erase,
Successive thoughts bound to depress,
Echoing in ears stays every phrase,
Alive are memories you must confess,

Emotions flow with good old memories,
as souls dance serene in mind galleries!




Written October 28th, 2014
Poet- Dr. Upma A. Sharma
Entered for contest 'Whatever' by PD A on Oct 29th

Awarded 10th place

Now for contest "Any old poem#8" by SKAT A



Copyright © Dr. Upma A. Sharma | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

In Loving Memory of Lucilla Carillo

My lovely Lucy, you’re no longer here
He called your name; you left without a fear
Your heart was tired and more so your soul 
God let you rest for soon he’d make you whole

There is sadness deep inside my heart
To know that in our group you’ll have no part
I’ll look for you by name, but I won’t find
That face that was so loving, sweet and kind

I don’t blame God, for He knows what is best
You were His loved one, so he gave you rest
A woman of great faith, you had no doubt
You wrote of Him and all that life's about

I’ll miss your poems, and your friendship, too
One day we’re sure to meet in earth made new


Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. 14 For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. 15 According to the Lord’s word, we tell you that we who are still alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will certainly not precede those who have fallen asleep. 16 For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever. 18 Therefore encourage one another with these words.

I Thessalonians 4: 13 - 18








Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

Those Glory Days, Long Gone

Those Glory Days, Long Gone


Those glory days resting so far bygone
I trek ahead, sad and so all alone
Treasures left upon lofty mountain tops
Rushing ever foward, no time for stops

Days, we resting under a shading oak
loving in vows that we forever spoke
Coolest mornings, breezing days easing minds
days of joy in all the many new finds

Those views of life sing forever above
crystal dreams set in our undying love
Nights of magic in epic love unbound
blisses in every kiss our wet lips found

Memories of days and nights now alone
holding memories of life so long gone!

Robert J. Lindley, 09-07-2014


Poem Syllable Counter Results

Syllables Per Line:  10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10  
Total # Syllables:  140  
Total # Lines:  17  (Including empty lines)  
Total # Words:  100 

Did it , hit exactly one hundred words + ten syllables
 per line and great rhyme.. A solid sonnet according to 
my own personal standards. Wrote it and had to minor 
correct only three lines..

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

Ardour's Cloth

When love becomes a masochistic moth
That yearns to feel the heat of passion's flame,
It chews a hole through sheets of ardour's cloth.

Its wings ignite, too close to blazing shame;
They glow at first with fervour as they feign
A beauty that becomes a painful game.

The tears can't quell the heat or halt the pain.
They fall to feed the weeds of sprouting dread
And drench the heart with beads of acid rain.

But rest assured that time will smooth and spread
The memories into the shrouded past
And stitch the lesions with a healing thread.

The day will come when joy will blink awake
To leach the sorrow from that phantom ache.


For Craig's "Terza Rima Sonnet" contest

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

Alone with his memories


Alone with his memories
 


He sits and wonders all alone, thinking
where has his life gone, not fun being old.
Had many friends with whom he sat drinking
boasting of love many secrets were told

Some who like himself can no longer walk
Need someone to push him when they have time
To sit on this bench, reminisce their thought
 a wheelchair replaces these legs of mine 

I wonder what is going through his mind
The laughter of friendship, honest and true
Putting the world to right, helped them unwind
A Penny for your  thoughts, please share them, do


So raise those eyes, look to the skies above
Smile at your friends, who are watching with love

Copyright © SEREN ROBERTS | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Bagpipe Memories

I can hear them in the distance when the air is bright and clear They bring back bitter memories of a long ago yesteryear The whining of the pipes I can remember well, As they set the cadence for the men, who marched into pure hell. They were preceded by their banner - A Royal Scot Brigade – These tartan clad musicians were never known to fade. They always kept on playing as to battle they did go; The weather did not matter - blazing sand or bitter snow. When heroes of the clan are called and laid to rest, A single piper can be heard filling a last request. The one, who paid the piper, in our hearts, will ever be – His place will forever be a part of bagpipe memories. The whining still is heard and the wars continue on And will be with us forever until the pipes are done. Written by John Posey 12/22/14

Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Where I Rest My Tired Soul And Dream With No Fear

Where I Rest My Tired Soul And Dream With No Fear


Cool flowing brook, clear water up to my knees
This day, vacation into mother Nature's lair
Wading in, beautiful stream wrapped in trees
This morning's softest  breeze, blowing my hair.

A step on back, into this my favorite wild woods
Enjoying life, pleasures in such gentle things
Wandering and admiring, all of Nature's goods
Each moment embracing, treasures the forest brings!

Beautiful vista begging me to shade and rest
Soft green, flowers telling me, lay right here
This fine comfy bed, part of Nature's best
Where I rest my tired Soul and dream with no fear!

My Soul begging me, never to dare ever miss.
Mother Nature's sweet embrace, a kiss like this!

R. J. Lindley
June 14th, 1981

Note- Another poem from my private journal.
While looking for a poem on darkness and death there 
I found this one and thought, just present this sonnet.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

This Old Castle

This Old Castle

This old castle, groans under the bright sky
stones weeping from blood soaked in long ago.
Granite walls and invaders to deny,
forced entry or even  catapult throw!

This old castle, dark nights music creeps out
sad songs tell of blood and decaying bones.
Many say ghosts scream and float all about
whispered curses in agonized low tones!

This old castle, fortress to protect  life
boiling oil poured on attackers below.
Death, sad pain washed in misery and strife
war the worst kind of dark and bloody show!

Old castle quietly guards its sad tales.
Yet often, one hears those sad midnight wails.

Robert J. Lindley, 12-19-2015

Form: Sonnet

Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	103

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Please Define

Define that fresh sensation once again
Thought to be missed while mellowing further
Define that shiver until one knows when
Tickled by touch as light as a feather.
Define that out of the blue expression
Brought as a smile amidst wonderstruck gaps
Define that itch to make an impression
Asked oneself if it may cause a collapse.
Define that strong desire to keep it close
Tried to hold off the longing within reach
Define that incessant praise as it shows
Felt the comfort to be part of such speech.
These feelings wished for more to discover
Though discouraged to be felt forever.

Define that jaundiced eye hidden deep down
Affected by delusions that must cease
Define that sleepless night tumbling around
Worried about its substance to decrease.
Define that gentle torture creeping in
Intoxicated by pleasure from pain
Define that risk taken for a good spin
Saw a dead end coming latched on a stain.
Define that sweet lemoning on the rocks
Denied the existence of falling out
Define that misfortune kept in a box
Considered as a sentiment no doubt.
These feelings wished for certainty to bite
Regardless, I still do not get it quite.

Copyright © Maria Rheza Mae Rubio | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Ancient Tree, How Inspiring It Be

Ancient Tree, How Inspiring It Be


The old tree stood beaten, weathered- Alone
were bent and twisting limbs ablowin'.
Within storm's deepest fury its majesty shown
deep was its great endurance ashowin'.

Burnt and so gnarly around its massive base
new sprouts growing from its seeds.
Beautiful widespread canopy was its face
flying like the manes on racing steeds!

With large broken limb hanging across another
huge awesome image it presented so- Epic
So easily viewed with love as if from a mother
gold poetry sung by this ancient relic!

That old tree hurt, in pain and- Enduring.
Gave solace for mankind's hope so- Assuring!

R.J. Lindley
March 22nd, 1970

Note- From my private journal. I was 16 then and 
was too see that tree cut down a few months later!
Thats when I knew, man was basically ignorant and
heedless of Nature's beauty, necessity and great
dependence upon trees! I have never forgotten 
that hard learned lesson. 
My favorite tree, in ignorance destroyed to gain
a few more feet to plant cotton! To plant cotton!
That can be be grown by the billions with such ease
in one season but suddenly more important than a
hundred and fifty year old tree!
This is my oldest surviving poem from my youth.
Presented as was written--no editing.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Well of Memory Calls My Heart And Soul

Well of Memory Calls My Heart And Soul


Well of Memory, sweet love thoughts I treasure 

holding great loves and joys beyond measure. 

Mere moment's thought summons up such delights 

to soothe my lonely spirit on the darkest nights. 



Without those gems, life would be so dead and dry 

much like a calm ocean without a blue sky.

Perish the thought, birth not such a nightmare 

bring not my early death by such a scare! 



Seek in peace, to live to a happy and ripe old age 

vanquish my greatest fears, conquer my epic rage! 

Pray I, travel on while deeply, serenely sleeping 

Be long gone before the heartache and sad weeping.


Longings of heart and mind upon illness and old age.

Imaginations soaring, seeking solace within last page.


Robert J. Lindley, 07-18-2014

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Those Youthful Days Were Intensely Sweet

Those Youthful Days Were Intensely Sweet

In poetic words, disillusionment I often paint,
about a wild man that was never a saint.
A life that raced into darkness in such haste,
never seeing the coming misery and waste!

There were hills of thrills to happily scale
never thinking of either heaven or hell.
I grabbed the pleasures that deep lust demands
while dancing to music of rock n roll bands!

O' yes, those youthful days were intensely sweet
and every day a challenge to have a blast.
Now in my maturity I find that this I must meet
reality of my faded memories shall not last.

Time has a way of delivering its greatest hits.
Memories found false, one rarely forgets.


Robert J. Lindley 1-19-2015

Note: Memories even if bitter sweet, are still gold 
when one wants to frolic in the past and ponder
the what-ifs, the if-only's and the I should-of's...
You know you are old when you look back more than you look forward methinks. Old age, the great equalizer..

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Memories of a Man

I cannot brush away tiny grains of sand
as the waves can reclaim them for the sea,
nor sweep clean my memories of a man,
as if love we had was not meant to be.

A mystery it is to those who are
questioning the moon for ruling the tide.
After years of passion, now a tug of war.
His spoils of battle are tears I can't hide.

In weak moments, I drift in reveries
of walks on this beach, of holding his hand,
time spent in laughter;  loving memories.
He threw us away, I don't understand.

Footsteps leave prints, washed out by ebb and flow.
I cry in vain, caught in love's undertow.

Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Within A Dream, I Love You, Was Heard

Within A Dream, I Love You, Was Heard

Of short duration, joy in our loving dreams
Of Lust and Love-  Both fuel deeper desires
With Loss, wading behind in the flowing streams
And Longing- flaming in its own Fires.
Yet when fine and fair weather holds its sway
We sing and dance never seeming to tire
And upon that sweet beach in Heavenly Bay
Nothing can make us think of future rage and ire.

Wanting to be that permanent snow far up top
And a mountain in its great majestic power.
Our Love swears that nothing, can ever it stop
Until doom, doom dares to invade its bower.

Once upon that sweet beach, in heavenly bay.
I heard her, "I love you", so tenderly say!

R.J. Lindley,
Spring 1972

(1.) "bow·er"
'bou(?)r/
noun
1.
a pleasant shady place under trees or climbing plants in a garden or wood.
synonyms:	arbor, pergola, grotto, alcove, sanctuary; gazebo
"a rose-scented bower"

Note- This one, was a golden angel that in 
my foolish youth I messed up!
Yet life had so much more in store , for living
is about mistakes, learning and surviving.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Why, O' Why Cry Out

Why, O' Why Cry Out


Like a blind fool, my life is in such tatters
Why cry out? Would it help such sad matters?
Friends declare their sweet sorrow for me
Am I not still a healthy, spreading bold tree?

My roots run deep and in a most fertile soil
for love and life I heartily sweat and toil
What more of me? Does another think my chore
I too, hold my heart- out, wanting much more!

No longer do I pray to a vanished, broken God
father loved me but never , never spared the rod!
Solitude in old, deep forests I so dearly seek
wisdom into Heaven- just a wee, wee little peek.

Can life give me more to hold most blessedly dear?
Greater heart to love, greater courage not to fear!

R.J. Lindley
March 26th 1980

Note. Old sonnet from my private journals.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

Are You Still Cursing Sweet Red Sunsets

Are You Still Cursing Sweet Red Sunsets

Are you still lurking, in sad corners of many minds
taunting them with your charms;
wrapping their lonely hearts into deep dark binds
while desperately laughing at deserted farms?

Are you still cursing sweet red sunsets
with salty voice and fast fleeing jabs;
shouting into blowing winds filled with jets
and still practicing with sharp dagger stabs?

Do you still chase fantastic shadow dancers
across those wide and deadly dark fields,
summoning up friendly demon prancers
clashing in battle with swords and bloody shields?

Yes! Your evil life has been all misery and sad woes
worn shoes with no heels and cut out toes!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-13-2016

Note --Re-worked a very old sunset poem today.
With hindsight I asked different questions of that past ghost.
Answers were echoed back in laughs, sneers and wicked little snickers.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet | |

Bluest Of Blues While Looking Back

Bluest Of Blues While Looking Back

All my victories have been shallow stains
shadow lights bent by use of greater force.
Time that culprit, shows just decayed remains
of white bone set upon a stone-cut course!

Looming so large once were joys in pleasures
now enhanced by a vain mind's need to gloat.
Truth is life was ruled by twisted measures
me sailing this cold world in leaky boat!

Sad thoughts, my poor soul now has so many
each one holding dark, miserable keys.
Life's real sweet treasures I haven't any
except days fishing under shady trees!

Decades have culminated in this thought.
Fishing for nothing and nothing I caught.

Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2016

Syllables Per Line:	
10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	104

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

When Winter Comes

When winter comes there's wind, rain, bitter cold
There's white everywhere from frost, ice, and snow
Bare tree limbs are tossed by strong winds that blowww
Close to the hearth tales of yore oft are told
'Twas not so in the spring when all is fresh_ new
When love is on the wing; trees' young leaves green
All is simple at those times of sixteen
So much so now that life is in review

Then summer came crops were ripe for harvest
Young limas were gathered by the bushel
The corn's tassels were now filled with full ears
Then ends that part of life a busy quest
Fall's panty filled now; plans made for bethel
Winter by the fire remembering years

finis'
First attempt at Italian Sonnet
Favored by Emily Dickinson

Contest:A Sonnet In The Wind
Sponsor:Poetess Darkly
Written: September 13-14, 2013

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

A Garden of Memories

She so lovingly remembers her grandfather here.
Tho many years gone; his memories kept near.
This book he read to her while she sat in his lap.
Taking her on great adventures; imaginations tapped.

Inhaling the aroma of orange blossoms, sweet.
Hungry after each journey, this fruit they would eat.
Filled with such nostalgia it's his scent she misses;
cherry pipe tobacco, also tasted on his kisses.

This has become a tradition for her each year;
happy memories filling her with joy, never tears.
For he is on an adventure in paradise now;
another for her to join him, when she is laid in the ground.

She will read to her grandchildren from this old book one day.
Where precious memories of her in this garden will be made.



July17, 2014
Contest: A poem in Paradise
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst

Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

SUNDAY DINNER A hillbilly sonnet

        SUNDAY DINNER  (Hillbilly sonnet)
Ma's cookin now, so come and set a spell
and you can bet we'll have her Sunday best
before the settin sun, and who can tell
what's on her stove--but it will meet the test.

Can't you just smell that fryin chicken now?
And you must know the gravie's fresh and hot
for pourin on them taters--I allow
a little more than I should have--so what?!?

The butter it just melts on bread so light
to compliment the vegetables we grow,
now if you know a life that's half as right
as this, you'd better make it yours to know.

   And I will say the grace, to thank God for
   what He has give--so He will give us more.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

NOSTALGIA MEMORIES

NOSTALGIA/MEMORIES

Ah quanta nostalgia
Ah what memories

Mentre tutto va
When everything’s going

Oltre I limiti della mia fantasia
Beyond your wildest dreams

Dove tutto e paradise se 
Where all is paradise

Giorni di liberta di festa
A day of freedom and celebration

La musica dolce suorna 
The sweet music plays 

Io pensavo e stato giusto
I thought it was right

Questa melodia
What melody

Passione 
Passion

Voli e brividi
Thrills and dreams

Tranquillita
Peace 

Copyright © evrod samuel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet | |

My Saturday Morning Job

Saturday mornings my list was quite clear,
Pull out the comet and toilet bowl brush.
Windex, perfect to polish the mirror,
Finish the toilet with one final flush.

Scrubbing the sink till faucets do glisten,
Empty the countertop, free from clutter.
Scour the bathtub, with so much ambition,
While under my breath, complaints I utter.

Our shower the biggest job of them all,
With its showerhead and sliding glass doors.
Standing inside to scrub ceramic walls,
Finally finished by washing the floors.

Child labor I’d cry when I was not paid,
When I grow up, I am getting a maid.


Shakespearian Sonnet
10 syllables per line
www.howmanysyllables.com

11.27.2014
Contest: Jobs
7th

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

Sycamore Memories

Window covered by a sycamore tree Constant friend of my snowy Maple days. Memories spring as insects on a tree Turn my gloomy days in glorious days Hippocrates got his inspiration for search in medicine he began. Buddh sat under it for meditation and enlightenment of mind to attain. Desdemona sat sighing under it in agony to hear willow song treat. Flying to Egypt Mary stopped a bit. Crann ban “Money tree” in Irish spirit. To demystify health, to personalize, To me sycamore is to poetize.
+++ December 2, 2014 Form : Sonnet {Iambic Pentameter) Dr. Ram Mehta Sixth Place Win Contest: Structured Forms by Georgio V. Venetto

Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

My Angel

Your love is like a fall’s crisp kiss
I can walk a thousand miles to get away from you
I can swim to the bottom of the ocean blue
I can fly a million feet up, way high in the air
I can pretend each day that I just don’t care
Yet I am sorry for the way I acted, the words I left unspoken
When I think of how we ended, my heart feels way too broken
Do you really feel this way, my presence do you not miss?
You made it clear your heart has no place for me anymore
I will move on and hope to find another to love like you
I will walk away, our memories in my heart I’ll store
Never allowing my mind to believe that it is true
For I loved, I lost. But as a friend I will never again tell
That you hold my heart forever, you are my Angel.



Copyright © Jordan Dickinson | Year Posted 2013