Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Sonnet People Poems | Sonnet Poems About People

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

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Sonnet | |

Ghost Rider in Vegas

He caught a ride to somewhere going nowhere;
first hopped inside a slowed-down limousine.
The driver felt a chill and turned to stare
at someone seated in the back unseen.

A new car’s scent; the passenger smelled nothing.
The seat of luxury he could not feel.
The driver then off-key began to sing
to no one as he slowly tapped the wheel.

His passenger joined in and crooned unheard
that ancient tune “It was a very good year,”
his old blue eyes once clear becoming blurred,
and down his cheek there rolled a single tear.

Again compelled, the chauffeur turned his head -
then saw a small spot where the tear was shed.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |

A Shade From The Past

Just as days long ago, when decorum resolved, 
before composure, and poise,.. were corsages, unknown
Where propriety mattered, and was favored as gold,
high society, has gathered to flavor their tea
There's a trellis, embraced by a rose climbing vine
Places are set, for dining in jade
beneath shadows that stretch under arthritic old trees
While slivers of sunshine, squeeze through the branches
of silver leafed limbs, in magnolia bloomed shade
Tea will be served, by large knuckled hands 
at several round tables dressed with Swiss lace designs
Wearing lavender silk is our proper Grand Dame'
who fits her surroundings, as vintage as wine

Voices are lilting like the birds in the trees
Laughter and chatter, mingle with soft, summer breezes 

A bouquet of old friends, around a few scattered tables. 
Silver coifed hairdos, to make celebration
Crepe myrtle and wrinkles, beneath ashes and maples
Water cress munchies, and triangle creations

Sweet honey-suckle, tucked over the porches.…
Rose petal blossoms, are painted on china 
Bridge cards, tumble by Blue Willow dishes
Biscuits from England, crumble sublimely

Large bosoms bouncing, and big floppy hats
Gossip dished up with lemon-sliced frowns
Up in the tree is the neighbor's calico cat
who catches a glance, and a chance to crawl down

Are they ladies of leisure, from a time that is lost?
Or a painting I've seen on the wall from the past?

Inspired By the Garden Party Contest
Sponsored By Cyndi McMillan 6/6/14

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Sonnet | |

One - The Number of My Name

“One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do”(?) - Three Dog Night

One - The Number of My Name

A melody I knew so long ago
comes echoing its lyrics through my mind.
It’s telling me through modern radio  -
how hard aloneness is and how unkind!

Reflecting on its words, I have to say,
I rather like the number one - I do!
I spend a large part of my life each day
alone! For me, this time has had great value.

No sadness do I feel to be alone.
Around the world, thanks to technology,
are friends I chat with. When I’m on my own,
I do fun things like writing poetry!

Determined and creative, I get things done
because the number of my name is One!

*Number 1 is just ONE of my three main numbers. If you want to know YOUR three numbers, including the number of your name, please see the links in my notes!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Sonnet | |

Theory of devolution

I am a pacifist I despise war.
It’s the only thing I actually hate.
I’m never able to brace myself for
Diplomacy that deteriorates:
Recriminating dialogue amuck
That results in irrationality.
Adults become intellectual schmucks
Whose mentality in reality
Is equivalent to a chimpanzee
In spite of our advances in science.
Our mentality still swings from the trees
Where once apish self’s had claimed provenance.
We haven’t evolved from our ancient source
Thus war is likely a matter of course.

Copyright © Albert Ahearn

Details | Sonnet | |

Blind Panic

Blind panic

There was a warning came one day
It said disaster’s on its way
An old volcano in the distance
It could erupt in any instance

The molten ash came pouring out
As neighbouring village was in doubt
Folk were running to and fro
It seems they had nowhere to go.

Buildings were cracking one by one
Blocking out the golden sun
This thing did turn our day to night
As everyone was filled with fright

As the Earth did turn to lava
Many prayed to the holy father.

Vera Duggan  16 August 2014.

Copyright © Vera Duggan

Details | Sonnet | |

Southern Hospitality

(A Blank Verse Sonnet)

In June, we traveled south to Memphis town,
a public poets' fete with Southern flair.
The mid-south heart unfolded nationwide,
an open cloak of warmth spread far afield
in concert with the sound and sense of rhyme.
A graciousness so coupled with its pride
to sharpen all who came in studied hope
and reasoned well effect, to prove result.
Yet seasoned poets put their pens aside;
the books they found, devoured with eyes and minds
already voiced the thoughts mankind repeats,
our ageless chants for hearts in love or pain.
        The weather's pull to southern ports advanced
        the lure of southern charm from heart to heart.

Copyright © Cona Adams

Details | Sonnet | |

Happy Birthday Jenny (Kyrielle Sonnet)

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Hope your big day brings you plenty
Keep a bright smile all the way
Your mom sings your praises today

Soon you will be driving to school
Don’t forget to follow the rules
Enjoy your day with a buffet
Your mom sings your praises today

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Don’t forget to save your pennies
Wish on a star on your great day
Your mom sings your praises today

Happy birthday to you Jenny
Your mom sings your praises today

© Joseph, 8/20/2007
© All Rights Reserved

This is for the the daughter of our own poetess, Kathy.

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 

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr

Details | Sonnet | |


NIGHTINGALE'S SOUL LIGHTS Plain spotless uniform so pure and white Modest neat gear rendering tender loving fight Day, night 'till wee hours, eyes a must wide awake Extending a hand, shaking off all aches Tiptoeing like a sly in and out of rooms Dim ~ quiet same as white garden tombs Grace under pressure upon first newborn's cry Wiping tears from a gentle old man's dying eye Evenings so dark and mornings so bright Everyday a nurse sees life kaleidoscope lights Despite some voice rudeness to foul remarks Kindness,her soul's sweet perfume, larks A nurse appears unfeeling firm when mankind bleeds Within her are hidden soft golden beauty deeds (c) 11:47pm July 06, 2014

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Details | Sonnet | |

On Maydays Day

I turn to my girl highlighting Mayday is near A day of spectacle that the whole village views There's Jesters of folly and Knights without fear Witnessing lances and jokes, always going askew To view such we can venture along different ways We can stroll by the river listening to many sounds In awe as we walk amidst most wondrous displays That on any given day beautiful vistas abound Decisions, decisions, as we contemplate which way It's such a special day wondering what to wear Beauty personified will my Olive be on this day Knights or Royal Princes, all they can do is stare So tomorrow we've decided to be our chosen route Two hearts in decision, declaring what's their suit <*> Mayday morn now greets as I turn next to me She my guiding light as beautiful as the dawn Excitement illuminates for into her eyes I see Onto my back I lie, that feel she's now upon Into this day we go heading along the river Crystal clear translucent such serenity in it's flow Under greened canopies cooled shaded deliver Wafting leaved dress in delightful fanned throw We sense the clearings near for scents we sense Sporadic clusters in capture of welcoming eyes Mayday games have started, distant heard suspense Knights on horseback mounted, now in espy Now we're in amidst encapsulated we now are She's here to cheer, her Sir James, soon to spar <*> Balcony she now awaits, white steed he's now astride Blinkered pairings gallop towards intended foe To win this Mayday he, to fight for her his bride Eliminate his enemy, witness his crimson flow His lance in now connect, thrown metal disperses Petals of beauty hurled of rainbows selected Images of we, now thinking marital rehearses To know on this day, her intended she's elected Moments of their previous now in recent past Knowing they're now free in kaleidoscopic stream Spectrum of feelings now in view full cast In colourful extremes, fight for your dreams .

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet to Thoughtful Women

I did not wish to leave your warm embrace --
   I did not wish for our sweet love to end --
And though your chauvinism's a disgrace,
   I cannot help but see you as a friend.
Perhaps someday a sweeter girl you'll find,
   Who'll do just as you wish for her to do --
A girl who doesn't have a thoughtful mind,
   So she can focus all she is on you.
She'll nod her head, and brainlessly agree
   With anything you say, to make you smile --
She'll cook your meals and serve you honeyed tea,
   And never stop her chatter all the while;
So when your brain cells rot from lack of use,
   You've only you to blame, and no excuse.

Copyright © M. Teresa Blaylock

Details | Sonnet | |


I am looking right at you and you don’t even know it.
I will deter your intent and throw you off a steep cliff.
But in the air will be my snuff and gruff you can sniff.
Eventually I will have some sort of mercy of just a bit.

Surely we are above empowering manners of tat for tit. 
Maybe I’ll light a scented candle and blow you my whiff.
Or maybe I will strand you grounding your bones to stiff.
Opposed or decomposed and still composed I won’t quit.

Upside down,
Inside or out,
I’ll throw down.
I am the clout.

Don’t mistake my identity,
Either or, it’s your eternity.

® Registered: Ann Rich   2009

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Sonnet | |


Inspired by;  Constance La France’s Native American Portrait 

Nikan is a man who once stood proud and true all across this land
in symbiotic relation with nature endowed by the great creators hand
passed onto him by his ancestors to never take more than his fair share
and always be kind to this land for it’s the Mother to all whom she shall bare

When times are lean we all will grow thin together for together we are one
with one voice to sing in harmony for bountiful harvest to our Father the Sun
and give him thanks and praise for warming and making fertile our Mother
who blessed new life into the birthing seasons for every Sister and Brother

Great spirit hear my song of hope that I sing for my people who will cry
we are mighty on the earth give us protection or your children they will die
and our people’s blood will flow upon our Mother like deep rivers of raging red
O’ Father I can see no solution will you spare us from the white mans dread 

I could never make claim to imagine this great man’s woeful sorry or despair
Nikan's song is a lonely tune played for the spirit of his people upon the air.

Nikan traslation from the Potawatomi "MY Friend"

Baamaapii Nikan.......until we meet again my friend

Copyright © Edwin Baldwin

Details | Sonnet | |

December of that Year - Finale

Throughout the days that followed, panic and carnage spread
The TV stations did their best to calm this human dread
All the hovering ships returned to whence they came
But thousands still appear above, New York now not the same

Communication now wanes, no power or mobile phones
You get a sense of feeling of being in a world that feels alone
Continual drones hum whilst the yellowed skies remain
Our planet we know as it was, will never be the same

Then came the day of reckoning as we all looked to the sky
A shuttle from the biggest ship lowered in hover fly
Suddenly the screens returned as we heard the visitors speak
We are ancestors of the Mayans, we treat as they were wreaked

From our original pasts demise, to earth we gave so long
To be part of here now gone, from an earth you once belonged

Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Be Still, Heart (Mine)

                     Melodies...echo of (two edged)..songs
                     Thrusting swords of austere dillusions
                       Onyx shroud, cavern sings illusions
                   To halt thy motions (stillness)....Wrongs
                  Schemes, unfed? (fattening) They flourish
                 Reminiscences~ Choice (once) 'twas mine
                    Whispers upon such sweet fires (thine)
                     Written desires, flames shall nourish

                   Fork'd tongue exhales power....(influence)
                    Tickles fancies, darkness shall cloak thee
                  Flashes of strong foredoom..wait (suspense)
                  (perhaps) Shall this souls' twisted song see?
                   Commune deep here...coalesce the wound
                 Of essence shroud (ragged) beating, swooned

Copyright © Christie Moses

Details | Curtal Sonnet | |



                                 Crushed dreams exploded friendships eroded,
                                  stubbornness, selfishness and ego interceded,
                                  expectations of true friendships forever eroded. 

                                  Mystique, curiosity gives the urge to peek,
                                  but critiques week after week , send a message
                                                 there's a mean streak.
                                  Always like a kid wanting to be applauded,or a
                                  confused adult needing to be lauded, friendly at
                                  times, ugly at others .

                                                     Yoyo idiosyncrasies    
                                   flexing like Jekyll and Hyde, a crazy pretender,
                                   never had a nurturer, stuck in mixed moods
                                    one that love and friendships eludes

Copyright © Joan Williams

Details | Sonnet | |

Scarlet Thorn

Forgive me, but I cannot stand the smell
of haggard roses, red from man's abuse;
though pleasing to the eye, the scent does tell
of love that was once fair, but now cut loose.

I wish to wallow in a grand bouquet
comprised of roses painted like the moon,
for virgin hearts are pure until they stray
from gardens seeded with their fathers' boon.

Tis true; an infant rose is white at birth,
but there are those who live to taint the bud
with careless hands, diminishing its worth
because her needles drink dishonest blood.

Fear not; I'd never yield a scarlet thorn,
for I adore the color you were born!

Copyright © Michael Perriatt

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Why do Good People Die Young

Oh! great one,I long for answer this day,
Why do good things terminate suddenly?,
And evil deeds prolong perpetually?,
This haunts and bugs me,for this is no play,
Oh!my beloved!why you left I can`t say,
This I know;you`re a gracious being.. truly,
Saddened as your life was cut abruptly,
Many beings like you wallowed in decay.

I do want to live long,should I do good?
why?as aura of death hangs around me,
Losing good fellow like you makes me nude,
Is it fate or what ? I want to be free,
Oh,great one! why?,why?...'I hate to be rude',
Why?are the pretty ones hang on a tree?

Copyright © olusegun Arowolo

Details | Sonnet | |


The Sacrament of Confirmation

Confirmation perfects baptismal grace

The Sacrament gives the Holy Spirit to root us more deeply in divine filiation

Incorporate us more firmly to Fr. Christ

Strengthen our bond with the Church

Associate us more closely with her mission

Help us bear witness to Christian faith in words accompanied by deeds

Like Baptism imprints a spiritual mark or indeliable character of the Christian soul

For this reason one can receive this sacrament only once in one’s life

A candidate for Confirmation has attained the age of reason must profess faith

Be in the state of grace

Have the intention of receiving the Sacrament

Be prepared to assume the role of disciple

Witness to Fr. Christ, both within the Ecclesial bond

Annointing of the forehead of the baptized with sacred chrism

Written 09172012

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

The Pirate and the Sea

The Pirate and the Sea Come sail to sea with me Let me show ye how it’s done Sailing that is, I’m not the only one Let’s go sailing on the sea Many a storm, thar will be But yer life has just begun Look up and see the shining sun Did you hear that loud boom? Just listen’ ta them thar drums Tonight they be drinking rum As pirates we’ll have a blast Ye’ll be dying whilst yer young Ship’s a sinking fast Life at sea really be such fun

Copyright © Linda Barr

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Tropical Romance

Tropical Romance White crowned waves wash upon the wet seashore The Palm fronds shiver in the stiff sea breeze Moonlight shimmers across midnight blue seas Black sky twinkles with diamonds galore Sensuous delights love does hold in store Come my love, on white sand lie with me please On this sand mound beneath these tall Palm trees And let us share the love we have pledged this day This love we do share is not commonplace White crowned waves wash upon the sea shore Moonlight shimmers across midnight blue seas Black sky twinkles with diamonds galore Come my love, on white sand lie with me please

Copyright © Linda Barr

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

A Dirty Basement Room

A Dirty Basement Room In a dirty basement room a baby cries Weakened mother was defiled Forced my law to birth a child Upon a dirty pillow she lies In a dirty room the mother dies Mother and son soon reconciled Victims of government gone wild A time to live a time to die Angry rapist walks streets free Will they listen to her plea? In a dirty basement room a baby cries Angry rapist runs streets free In a dirty basement room mother dies Will they listen to her plea?

Copyright © Linda Barr

Details | Acrostic | |

Sonnet 7: Garbage bin poem

Good people will place me where I serve best
And charge me with a most noble duty
Regardless of the weather I won’t rest
Bearing the task of preserving beauty
And though some may sneer and say I’m smelly
Greater peace of mind breathes where I am seen
Everyone needs me to keep their home clean

But if I should not be found standing there
In the place I was left, alone and bare, 
Not many would notice or even care

Public places are cleaner when I’m there
Offices, beaches, streets, shops and kitchens
Everywhere people live I should be found
My hope is that people want me around.

Copyright © Michael Dom

Details | Sonnet | |

Destiny's Perch

In the near future, I am going to add it all up into one big sum.
In the meantime, I am going to gather and collect my own space.
I will sift through seeds or weeds and present an enormous case.
But for sure I will hold onto every single yellow chrysanthemum.

In the near future, I am going to roll it all up sealing it by my thumb.
In the meantime, I am going to sit here with every turned about face.
I will drift through time rewinding the hands back to a God of Grace.
But for sure I will give the world a place my heart is triumphing from. 

Quickly, I will come to you,
And instantly I will be gone.
But injustice shall never do.
Nor shall a lie be my spawn.

Or at the least not on my expedient silver polished dime,
And certainly not while sitting on destiny’s perch in time!

® Registered: Ann Rich   2009

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Sonnet 4

What is a man, nay, what am I?
More than just the 350 lbs staring back at myself?
Am I nothing more than a collection of scars and wealth?
Recall, if you would, the line “I can see your soul in your eye”
So am I an eye? Then why even try?
Why attempt to lose the weight, get in better health;
Why talk to a soul, just live alone in stealth?
This seems a grand life for I.

But maybe I’m an eye, an observer
More than that, maybe I’m a catalyst, or a part-
I think I’m not a loner; I’m just scared of the fervor.
Here comes a truth, something closer to the heart
I want to be included in this life, even as just a server
Because serving in the day, is better than sitting in the dark.

Copyright © Dalton Powell

Details | Sonnet | |

Kim Jong-un leader of the starving

I wonder what your thinking, in your country far away
And what on earth possesses you to threaten mine today
You allow your people to starve, munitions they are first
While daily people starve to death and many die of thirst

Your father and grandfather should have taught you how to care
Instead they shared their legacy of treating people unfair
Many live in work camps with three generations or more
Simply because they disagreed, so now all must chore

You live in style above the rest, have people who adore
But deep down, I believe that each person longs for more
You teach hatred and despise my country each and every day
For freedom and free choice would take yours away

Your people follow in fear, like robots in a line
I wonder how long they will conform or will it be your time
More and more try to escape, or die instead of live
In a country such as yours that takes much more than it gives

Each building,statue, memorial you have to tell a tale
Of twisted truths and travesties instead they often fail
For freedom is what's needed in the country you call home
Grow food instead of opium,and leave the people alone

You have the power in your hands to change what was past
Hurry please before it's too late you must do it fast
Do not start a war in which more people will die
Because your father and grandfather started it with a lie. 

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver

Details | Sonnet | |

Deathbed Sonnet

And even after all that time had passed;
            my moon had set above another sun,
it seems my heart was still at odds with past;
            my tongue at war with words I left unsung.

This bed of ardor caught between my teeth,
            will thus remain, and even grow post haste,
where all the while, there's nothing I'll bequeath 
            excepting flowers scent, above my waste.

And so it goes with every vacant beast,
            as twenty-twenty sees - I should have done!
I should have said; I should have been, at least
            a man awake to seed his endless sun.

And as the night descends upon my thought,
            remember son these words that, I lived not.

© Kristin Reynolds 3 11 09

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Sonnet | |

The King of Goth

The Sussex lad, to title and land born,
An alumni, now he stands proudly tall.
In Oxford students pass at future’s dawn,
For some the inspiration was his call.

Provocative, a mighty pen his sword,
Expelled for godless view from hallowed hall.
The Baronet poet, friend to a Lord,
The Gothic king’s voice did incite them all.

His Mary worshipped at her husband‘s feet,
She held his heart tight from death’s final flame.
Did they engage in black acts, pagan mete?
A dark and often troubled soul laid claim.

Into the storm set sail to the end foretold,
He died before his talent could unfold.

Copyright © Jemmy Farmer

Details | Sonnet | |

It Makes No Sense At All

Does it really matter who actually eventually wins
As we voters give our lives, do they give us their skins
Do they really care about who votes them into power
As we voters give our lives, in power, us, they devour

How many do remember, where they actually came from
And do they walk our walk, when voted in sing song
How can we trust their hand, their smile when they need us
And their continual door to us closed, all because we make a fuss

Our fuss we make is not born, it's created in our lives
How many of us remember, it's in their voted strive
When does our strive resist, to be taken as we exist
For many days to weeks, we're in continual wanting persist

Whether Democrat or Republican, when elected look into voters eyes
Or be forgotten from hence you came, and in us we'll soon despise


Copyright © James Fraser

Details | Sonnet | |

Pure Circumstance

God knows each heart that walks the streets again,     
each sense of guilt caught in a false pretense.                    
How not to spend a tear at their expense 
or can I not reflect what might have been 
if different circumstance had altered then?    
Had fate or chance to change the future, hence?     
Their shoulders hunched, against cruel wind, intense,      
poor scavengers, who some call useless men         
will migrate streets, in hopes for scraps of food,     
a crumb, a nickel, dime, a place to find                      
a shelter dry, when frost of night is nigh.    
And now I travel home, perhaps to brood                                      
on cruelty of life that bodes unkind 
to some. I cannot eat,...tonight I cry. 


Miltonic Sonnet: For Contest Sponsored By Craig Cornish

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Sonnet | |

Sonnet Dialogue: Scorn in Duality, Lit Op 5

I  looked below and saw the dawn from here,
Disturbing may, below the light- a man.

“Oh, stranger most, shall I ask you with fear?”

“Dear one, you fear no one”, replied the man,
“Nor Him, you fear Him not for you are but
The holder of the strings of those you sight.”

A second by, I asked him in abrupt,
“The guardians of the roof, had they loved me?”

He voiced: “Their love are drawn in stitching crossed,
Exquisite yet details are course, you see?
The veil from where it rests you should have tossed,
Each thread in havoc, one chaotic sea!”

I spared a tear, his face did went outworn,
Afar the lake I headed. God, I’m torn!


Copyright © Karlo De Leon