These Memory Sonnet poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Memory. These are the best examples of Memory Sonnet poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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
Take a walk today down memories lane
what is it that you remember the most
is it the childhood memories of Spain
maybe the first time you went to the coast
into the waves you ran without a care
dancing and tumbling you played carelessly
drifting out to sea you had a big scare
when saved your mother grasped you tightly
or could it be the day you fell in love
all starry eyed remembering that kiss
like a shooting star falling from above
never had experienced such bliss
memories last a lifetime don't fade
reminiscences can not be remade
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
First attempt at Italian Sonnet
Favored by Emily Dickinson
Contest:A Sonnet In The Wind
Written: September 13-14, 2013
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
Remember when we acted so sly,
Going to lunch and getting high?
Remember when we camped and drank all night,
All of us glowing in the fires light?
Remember the girls we used to date,
how they never used to make us wait?
Remember the time we all skipped school?
Always together, forever, free and cool.
Remember how we all dressed the same,
and thought those over 20 were lame?
Remember that awesome party we had,
and you got busted by your mom and dad?
Remember when you went away?
I have not seen you since that day.
For the "Do You Remember" contest
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.
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
Voli e brividi
Thrills and dreams
There is a world of endless exploration,
The whole of life yet at its blissful berm,
A place of wonder and vast imagination,
With views of this world in its purest form.
A world that all have paid a passing visit,
And drove men mad with longing for another,
Its greatness, not realized whilst they were in it,
For years was cause of unsatisfied hunger.
For alas, only once can this grand place be seen,
Its innocence can never be regained,
Its borders crushed by an aging world obscene,
And not but precious memories remain.
From this world there is much that can be learned,
Though, sadly, there’s no hope of our return.
Tenderly she picked the pink flower
day dreaming of the first flower given
wandering over to the bedecked bower
she dreamily looked at the garden
Memories of happy times came flooding in
the places they had visited together
Roma where they bathed in Turkish basins
Athens, they were victims of a flasher
Paris is the city of love and romance
here they had dallied playing some love games
time they spent alone in a loving trance
their love for each other fueled by flames
Love had bound them for all eternity
memories founded on a dynasty
I see you fair in memory’s sweet abode
‘tis truly there with you I long to be
To touch again ‘fore daydream walls erode
Thy lips of red, o passion, mine to thee
In passion do I feel the tempest rise
Rise to meet the moonlight’s sweet caress
To see myself in love there in your eyes
And in thy garden dare to find me rest
O damn the world that holds this body bound
N’er content, my spirit yearns to search the wind
‘tis there in sweet repose my love is found
And there I long to be with you again
For in fair memory’s eye no care there be
And to thy heart, mine own, I’d give to thee
Christopher Thor Britt