These Spring Sonnet poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Spring. These are the best examples of Spring Sonnet poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
One April day when spring was in the air,
I stepped outside so I might relish it.
I came upon a cherry tree so fair,
beneath its limbs I was enticed to sit.
I fell to sleep inhaling fragrant bliss -
the vision of the tree still in my brain.
I dreamed one sweet, pink petal, like a kiss,
fell on my cheek, and soon there was a rain. . .
A rain of lovely silken blossoms! Then
they softly made a pile upon the ground.
Warm wind embraced me; that’s the moment when
I woke to pink resplendence all around!
Upon a bed of petals I then lay.
Inside a dream I had no need to stay!
Down where roses bloom in the month of June
The scented petals will mature and fall
Carried by zephrys of spring like balloons
Those petals in the wind over land sprawl
Pale pink petals carried away to land
With a gental touch of kindness caress
The spring grasses with a delicate hand
Courteous as it lands with politesse
Each petal waits in turn to fly away
Their patience is long, each holds 'til time
They then 'pon the wind float and not betray
The Spirit within which is one sublime
Down where the roses bloom may the fruit grow
Let love lead as petals upon wind flow
Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
Contest: Petals In The Wind
Written this 23rd day of January 2013
Written by: Sara Kendrick
At the spring celebration Jill had a head start
She danced across the floor straight to his open heart
Lit by love and glowing like an eternal flame
Passion in motion ere she even knew his name
When he first took her hand, she felt electrified
In the months that ensued feelings intensified
Carpet of crimson rose petals strewn on her bed
The pair gave not a thought to what might lie ahead
But when the festive holiday season came ‘round
A garland of fir branches on her head he crowned
As he knelt before her in front of the fireplace
In a blanket of tender love she felt encased
Bowing before her, he presented a diamond ring
For their love affair proved to be more than a spring fling
*Entry for Brian's 100th Anniversary poem challenge on Aspects of Love
I was wrong about spring,
for all those months I painted the blame on winter’s dark face.
Wave after wave of cold cloudy, darkening days,
saturated my damaged point of view. By the way
I am sure I will die on a winter day, blaming the solstice,
waiting for the capricious spring to finally arrive.
But my heart will be frozen, and perhaps not even alive.
God how I love the way you make the sun shine.
I was wrong about my fate,
I filled the frame in haste, too busy to wait. I didn’t listen.
I ate my own eyes, and blamed the skies,
I chased the horizon and wrapped it in lies.
Oh spring day, it is never too late,
to fill me with mercy and grace as I wait.
It''s great to see the leaves again
To see the flowers grow
Spring excites me so
I love the freshness of the rain
I can shake off winter's aches and pains
As I listen to the March winds blow
Spring is a wonderful time I know
Spring is here to keep me sane
Now I hear the red robin chirp
I see the sun shining bright
I want to play and not work
Out in the pretty sunlight
Where life is new and pure
I love Spring of that I'm sure!
My love, your breath, fresh as a spring breeze,
Caresses my face, with a wondrous tone,
As your sweet lips, approach mine, we moan.
For expectation, of such pleasurable tease,
For there is no time, for emotions to please,
Our brief moments, are barely, only a loan.
For passion delivers, future beautifully alone,
Our ecstasies of movements together, appease.
After spring, before the heat of summer time,
Our ardor grows; grows within each heart.
Our touch, Heavens blessing, to each other,
These moments, hours, days have no crime.
Together forever, our souls, never part,
Our spirits are free, to love; never smother.
Love like a spring that never stops flowing
On the arrival at this spring suddenly
Venture and rush not to drink devouring
Ease, stop and rest for a while quietly.
Linger on the long road you have travelled
Into your hands then catch up the water
Keep your palms, like a cup fully folded
Elevate it to your lips with fervor.
Spring of love is so infinite and chaste
Panic not, the water will never dry
Remember never to drink it in haste
Failing not be grateful to one you eye.
Now the person who you love is a spring
Get it but don’t make the spring lowering
Dr. Ram Mehta
Form: Sonnet (Only Pentameter)
Contest: Impress Me with Short Poems III by Giorgio V
Up a country road Wisteria blooms
The soft lavender fragrant buds await
Easy sunlight gently touches blossoms
Sends wafing aromatic breeze thru gate
White Dogwood blooms spot multicolored woods
Gently lift and fall in soft spring air
Impressionistic Azalea blooms stood
Colorful ornaments on creek's bend fair
Narcissus stand in trim and neat rows
Except at homeplaces beside the road
Where they are free to send out young
For our rejoicing when spring has sprung
In the warm spring nature's bouquets abound
Sakura, Tulips short time are around
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!
"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!
The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
and on his heels--I made my promise good!
We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Cottage Gardens In Early Spring
A quiet cottage garden, my delight
in early springtime, dawning just begun
bold daffodils lift up their faces bright
to trap the warmth dispensed by morning sun
the soft green grass still holds the pearly dew
ensnaring droplets silvery and small
some candy tuft are opening, just a few
in answer to the warmer seasons call
when yellow crocus wake to welcome day
beneath the trees a splash of glowing gold
and primula doth cast a rich display
while honeysuckle vines uncurl, unfold
for me no more a wondrous thing
than cottage gardens in early spring