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Best Italian Sonnet Poems

Below are the all-time best Italian Sonnet poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Italian Sonnet poems written by PoetrySoup members

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A Dance by Annis, Jacob
Loving The Fight by Beam, John
Mad as a Hornet by Ward, Julia
Corrosive Love by Wood, Holly
Juliet by cornish, craig
Fighting For Love by Beam, John
D Day by cornish, craig

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The Best Italian Sonnet Poems

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Your Look of Precious Love

Whilst I gaze so warmly in your eyes my dearest, 
I see deeply your pure angelic soul of love 
Reflecting like a radiant flight of a dove, 
Charting its flight on so high emotions purest!	
Our spirits ascend high in the sky so clearest
To the very boundaries of Heaven my love,
Where the power of brightness is God’s best above. 
Your look of precious love is always mine dearest!

When we kiss so passionately our lips so melt,
As we caress warmly emotions are so felt!
Why we do this darling defines our love so dear,  
As counts the worth of angels’ blessings to be here!
How we love each other so matters on God’s Earth,
Your look of so precious love exceeds all gold’s worth! 

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, December 05, 2014 
(Petrarchan Sonnet poetic format in Iambic Hexameter)

Copyright © Gary Bateman

More great poems below...

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Down Fall

Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.

Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes 
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow. 
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Goddess of the Moon


                                          Shine, Mediterranean Selene
                                          unique goddess of this dark life
                                          glow with pride and forget the strife
                                          all my nights are lonely and serene.
                                          I'm yours, only yours, pure and clean
                                          and although your distrust is rife
                                          soon, so soon... you'll become my wife
                                          believe these words of sacred mien.

                                          Do not let envy plant those seeds 
                                          of fear, of jealousy and spite
                                          from the demons come those breeds
                                          whose gossip and lies seek our fight
                                          They're who expect your heart concedes
                                          to steal what lives just for your light.

Copyright © Ruben O.

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Why I Weep

I'm named a willow tree and live in grace,
the whole of me distinctive in its shape.
My elegance well suits this lush landscape
of hillocks flung across the field I face. . . 
and gentle rills meander through this place.
In spring I don a long virescent cape
comprised of many supple arms that drape
to earth and, with Eve’s shadows, interlace.

Oh, countless times Sun’s flecked my every leaf
and Sky distilled her stars as night would creep.
Young lovers, though, have fled, their time so brief.
They used to spread a cloth to eat; then sleep
beneath me in my shade. They knew no grief. . .
Not privy to their destiny, I weep.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Snowflake

Young love is pure - like snow when fallen new -
and always I’ll recall one wondrous day!
Through dawn, soft powder fell; clouds lingered grey
until mid-morning. Splendid sun shone through
the gloom, and sky turned periwinkle blue!
Excited, we ran laughing, out to play
in snow, which all around us brightly lay.
But never did I guess what would ensue. . .

You chased me, until breathless, we both dropped
onto a blanket of sheer white, and then
a snowflake touched my mouth. Your fingertips
began to trace its shape, until you stopped. . .
Your gaze became intense, and that is when
you bent to kiss the snowflake from my lips.

OR Horses & Snowflakes

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Summer Lover

Oh, summer sun, all winter I have missed
your stale hot breath upon my upturned face;
your tongue that seers my flesh as I unlace
the strings on my bikini. I am kissed
by sultry lips that burn. I can’t resist!
I bask in light of day, and I embrace
Your penetrating rays that find each space
of skin exposed. I wait and plan my tryst.
And when you come, I’ll reverence you once more,
supine, as you would have me, to receive
your torrid touch as token of your lust.
In June we’ll meet as always by the lakeshore.
I should not go.  So well you can deceive.
Some lovers you have killed! Yet still I trust. . .

*For A Rambling Poet's Scavenger Hunt Contest
This poem emulates the lovely haiku called
"dappled sun," (6/9) and also it is a love poem 
for summer much like Constance's Senryu 
"Winter Love" is her love affair with winter.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Inside This Little Room

It's to the corner kids must sometimes go,
or to their room they're sent and kept alone.
Their freedom gone, they stare at walls and groan.
When time is up, they've not one thing to show!

Of poets, there are some who undergo
a similar reaction. They bemoan
their ever being sentenced to the "zone"
of writing in a form that stifles flow.

Like embryos enclosed within the womb
and sucking on their toes, they wait to be
thus freed from "Mother" Poetry (Oh, doom!)

In contrast, I implore you: Keep that key
and leave me here - restricted. I shall bloom
inside this little room. Do punish me!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Santa's Favorite - Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer

Santa Claus has travel worries at the North Pole,
With terrible winter storms brewing there afoot,
He knows Christmas is so close and so he must put
His children first now whom he loves deeply and whole! 
And so he must find red-nosed Rudolph to cajole
Him into guid’n his sleigh on Christmas Eve to boot,
For this would bring his kids so much joy—what a hoot!   
Rudolph’s red nose bright guiding them from the North Pole! 

Rudolph leads Santa’s reindeer on Christmas Eve Night,
While all shout out with joy on this blessed holy night!
Santa’s reindeer love Rudolph in equal measure,
For with him they won’t be lost—oh what a pleasure!
Rudolph’s glowing red nose shines now ever so bright,
As we all with Santa celebrate the Lord’s night!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, (December 12, 2014) 
(Petrarchan Sonnet poetic format in Iambic Hexameter)

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Tides of Our Passion

The Tides of Our Passion

The tides of our passion cry out my love, 
As we seek to define who we are now.
To live this special life gives us that how,
And when and why we must seek God above!
Our souls blend one perfect constant of love, 
As we prize God’s cosmic eternal vow.
Our passion defines our life and us now;
Our love basks in Heaven’s own light above!

Our passion’s rapture is love replete,
With brilliant emotions forever bright,
As we kiss softly under God’s moonlight!
Love’s magical force makes our life complete,
As we seek happiness here on God’s Earth, 
Knowing love shall transcend our mortal birth!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
July 28, 2015 (Petrarchan Sonnet)

Author’s Notes:
Meter: Iambic Pentameter
Octave: abbaabba | Sestet: cddcee

Copyright © Gary Bateman

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Death Watches

A vision through the haze of time and rhyme
a mirrored beauty, Helen sits and waits.
I see her through the window for it's late,
at dawn, I'll bring her death, for she's not mine.
As yet, the key's not turned in lock sublime,
and I will stand and wait as fear dictates.
The Master's carriage leaves at half past eight
then I approach the shrouded outer gate.

Through the door and to Helen's room, I run,
and grasp her tightly to my beating chest.
I tear the cloth from her and she's undone.
Helen prays for her Paris dispossessed, 
as on the satin sheets my stanchion drums
out of fight and breath, she acquiesced.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Endless Love

In my soul, I shall never find 
another who completes me like you.
Our endless love, for strength 'tis true,
I rely to face those days of resign.
But always does my heart remind
of blessings from heavenly blue.
The ties of eternity like glue
shall always endure, bridge and bind.

My heart renewed was once threadbare
worn and ragged under bitter tears.
Oh, the first dance of love as a pair!
Tears of joy displace the trembling fears.
A love entwines two hearts aware
as endless bands of gold appear.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Dear Juliet

Dear Juliet is on her balcony - awash in moonlight. Do you see her there? Her form - how graceful, and her face - how fair! She is a pearl which night stole from the sea and placed beneath the stars to spellbind me! Behold the luster of her auburn hair. The sun has set, bright red, and yet I’d swear it lingers in her long locks so fiery! How fortunate am I in that the Fates have given me the love of Juliet, for she’s a gem while I am but a stone. And see how patiently this goddess waits. She has her pick of any suitor. . . yet she’s chosen me and waits for me alone!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Gracious Damsel

I wonder whether this is love or lust,
If rain reigns in the day or dark night,
Confused as I lay low without foresight,
My soul sails through the sea of metal rust,
Clean my lens and brush my hair just to adjust, 
Hoping to see my diamond shine so bright,
This passion can`t be hidden but brought to light,
as I look at the sky to know who to trust.

Heaven smiles at me as my joy abound,
This reminds one that shinning stars are few,
Knowing that goodness and bliss will be found,
I walk towards my pearl for the time is due,
Her beauty and traits spin many heads around,
For her benevolence you have to take a queue.

*Valentine Poem* 

Copyright © olusegun Arowolo

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Modern Poets' Society

How different was the world of long ago
when writing was a special skill to hone,
and masters of this art were so well known
with names like Wordsworth, Shelley, Frost or Poe.
The realm of poetry began to grow
exceedingly as newer forms were sown
though now there are so few of world renown
while poetry itself sees endless flow!
The techno world allows us to be seen
on countless websites and we all can claim
to be a poet, but the irony
is that there barely is a thing to glean
from this, for often just to show one's name,
the poet pays the publisher a fee!

(A Miltonic Sonnet - I hope!) Written 4/30/14

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Praise God With Me

We praise You for the mysterious sea
We fear Your glorious Name above all Names
More than the sharpness of shark fangs
We will forever sing of Your glory.
Oh, Architect of all Earth’s beauty,
King above all kings that reign, 
Deliverer from our every chain,
You are so ever praiseworthy!

Your Son died and rose again,
He holds the keys to Your kingdom,
His blood washes clean our every sin.
Behold the Spirit He said You would send, 
No one surpasses Him in wisdom,
He is our ever-present friend.

Copyright © Kim Bond

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

A Modern Woman's Plight

She wakens to the most ungodly ring tone- her husband's cell phone left there by her bed. And next, her damn alarm clock's blare is fed by noise of the neighbor’s lawn mower’s drone. At work, suppressing groans, she is a clone who answers e-mails, and with silent dread, takes clients' calls. Guff fills her pounding head; again and then again that ringing phone! Then finally she’s home. Ahhhh. . . . time to dine - except the children cannot break away from Face book - and the oldest starts to whine. Her hungry spouse then walks into the fray. Amidst it all, as if to underline her plight, that neighbor’s dog begins to bay! For Cyndi MacMillan's TIMELESS YET CONTEMPORARY, A SONNET THANG

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

A Blue Rose Sings

Upon a deep blue rose, a scented song,
so delicate of harmony and sweet;
a melody, whose strains of love replete
I mused upon. To whom could it belong?
To claim such ballad ought have felt so wrong,
but I could ne’er its memory delete;
each note an echo in my own heart’s beat,
alluring me to drift and sing along.

Though how I wish I’d never found the rose
whose music stirred a restlessness in me;
where love once blossomed only sorrow grows
from searching for a love that cannot be,
and timelessly a tear-blue river flows
through heartache’s vale to discontentment’s sea.

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

For You

For you through every gate of hell I'd run
and rattle Satan's door and laugh at fear,
then soar beyond God's stars to hold you near,
to capture in my heart a thousand suns.

I'd fly through angry squalls and call it fun -
make each and every sadness disappear
so only happiness would draw a tear
and even then I can't say I'd be done.

But if you ever felt I'd do you harm;
betray the precious love within your heart
and toss aside your trust and say adieu;
fall prey to sultry other women's charms
and every guile temptation could impart,
then that is something I could never do.

Sep. 5

Copyright © craig cornish

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Captured - Sonnet

Cecropia, transported through the night
on satin wings lined white in their design,
hovers over innocence by moon’s shine.
A fragrant bloom has stopped him in his flight,
and on a petal he prepares to light.
He ceases fluttering so as to dine
on that sweet nectar of his valentine.
And I alone am witness to this sight.

The moth and orchid's union gladdens me
as wayside, I am frozen where I stand,
for what I've found, though simple it may be,
has purpose and is nothing short of grand.
Now captured by the beauty that I see,
I let my net slip gently from my hand.

For Brian Strand's "Any Poem of 2011" Contest

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Ancient Lady

She is ancient, tall and wise
Her slender frame so frail
Skin so smooth, but deathly pale
Bright against dark skies
Against her soon the wind will rise
Against her let it rail
I pray the lord she does not fail
As with the storm she vies

And thus begins an epic fight
To beat the mighty gale
And as she heads into the night
Who knows where she may trail
Dawn breaks at last it’s such a sight
As once more she sets sail

Contest : Italian Sonnet
5th place

8th place

Copyright © Nick Bagnall

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |


WHEN NERVES AND PULSE CONGEST Tender are the days brushed with thoughts of light when yesterday rolling, rolling are the tears... Jagged nerves and pulse congest in colliding repair, they... rise to roar beams and rays of medley grace. Glitters of gold and red cartwheel slow on my face, I, before filthy shades of earth stand like a knight to whoever dares, forgetting crime as I fight! Even to ember flames of days, I... brave to step and chase for if deep the earths' steep it births you: "my sunshine", I keep forth to reap a mirth: me being with you. Black as coal creep, it rebirth night that seeps the signs but later sun peeps, its smile girths our blues. To a new life, new day, I faithfully consign with burning daylight as my sweep leap to have you... __________________________________________________ ***Sponsor rob carmack Contest Name Screwed IV ~~5th Place~~ Olive Eloisa Guillermo 11:02 pm. April 24, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Seasonal Passion

You my love with a tender caressing touch.
I wait the seconds, minutes of eagerness.
Sweet feeling upon when our lips press.
Tastes of our tongues swirling so much,
Enhancing sensual ways that we clutch,
Our bodies and souls share such finesse.
Each time together, never any repress.
Our love is bound we have no crutch.

Everything I adore about you is mine.
Our souls entwined in sweet Bordeaux.
We climax together as wonderful wine.
We have captured charismatic glow.
As we share each other’s passion fine.
Passing seasons continue as we sow.

Copyright © cecil hickman

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |


I never enter every contest on soup Sometimes sponsors can be very hard to please Achieving first place is not always a breeze Some don’t like me writing poems about poop Yet every person is unique in our group Some wonderful poets with great expertise Writing different forms with consummate ease To be skilled like them then I’d be cock a hoop Yet people moan when they don’t get a high place Think their poetry is much better than 'mine' Tell the sponsors their judgment is a disgrace It saddens me their feelings are so malign Criticise until they are blue in the face For each of us thinks our poems are divine Written after reading Tommy Boy's recent blog 10~17~15 Italian Sonnet - Rhyme Scheme - abbaabba cdcdcd

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |


It's Halloween, that spooky time of year, when scary monsters prowl the streets all night. The costumes sometimes give us such a fright - our heads with trepidation fill with fear, but light the candles then they disappear. Young children's faces shining with delight, lit up by pumpkin lantern's glowing light; with bags of candy kids run off and cheer. Some teenage children take it all too far and play their tricks when they don't get a treat. I find smashed eggs upon my house and car, then I use language I should not repeat! Next year I'll have my front door just ajar and wear a white face pack and old bed sheet. 10~23~15 Italian Sonnet - abbaabba cdcdcd Contest: Mad as a Hornet Sponsor: John Lawless

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

All Through Tuscany

The afternoon outlined. The sunny strokes
of a samurai blade on her body
revealing things the eyes feign see.
Tempted, wounded, the virgin parchment floats
between her skin and satin cloak.
Artist; afternoon, craving company
draws her inside-out so innocently,
on purpose leaves the yolk indwelling.

The painter in the corner moans,
he jealous of the afternoons artly
sensual oration.
Improving skin, bare olive tones
of subtle pastel, the moment partly lost
to the constellations.

Copyright © Jim Marshal