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Best Italian Sonnet Poems

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Premium Member Poem | 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.




Premium Member Poem | 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.
.

Premium Member Poem | 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.



Premium Member Poem | Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

What I'd Do For Love

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 woman's charms
And every guile temptation can impart,
Then that is something I could never do.



Premium Member Poem | 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.


For John Freeman's
Give Me Your Best Shot!!!!!! Poetry Contest




OR Horses & Snowflakes








Premium Member Poem | 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!


Premium Member Poem | 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.



| 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.




Premium Member Poem | 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!

| Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Gracious Damsel

I wonder whether this is love or lust,
If rain reigns in the day or dark night,
Confused a s I lay low without forsight,
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* specially dedicated to all my great friends including PD(Linda),Debbie,
Catie,Carol,Skat,Leonora,Susan,Gwen,Sara,Nette,Constance,Andrea,Gail,Seren,Carrie  etc…I Love You all..



CONTEST:"Impress me with a small poem IV" sponsored by GV

Premium Member Poem | 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

Premium Member Poem | 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

Premium Member Poem | 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

| 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

Contest : OLD CONTEST ENTRY 
8th place

| 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.


Premium Member Poem | 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.

| 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.

| 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.

| 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.

| Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Icy Death

Trapped under the ice of impending death.
An icy cold chill that holds like a vice.
You sit and you wait in your prison of ice.
The Grim Reaper's so close that you smell his breath.

You're miserable waiting to die like a fool,
And your feelings are numb from losing all care.
It gets hard to breathe...you feel lack of air,
And you sense the quick swipe of Death's sharpened tool.

But now that it's over, you feel no more pain.
You don't have to worry about torturous rain.
The ice is all gone; you are no longer caught.
You've waited and stalled, but no time has been bought.
So smile, you're dead, your life is now done,
And it was just you, not Death, that has won.

| Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Immortal Eyes

Like shots of whiskey your eyes just burn
I….addicted to the fervent heat they pour
This desperate skin just aches for more
Hear this roaring beat…..a rampaging yearn
Tempestuous waters….a storming churn
That penetrates this barricaded core
Molten lava crashes…. (forsaken shore)
A fractured heart shall oscillate and turn

The Wind….it keens….a howling desire
A shattered bewail of distance and dreams
A mewling of tearstained orange red fire
Those hot eyes shred what is left of seams
Tip toeing on a mile high tight rope wire
An eternal lament of “kiss me” extremes

| Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Poet Destroyer vs. The Acrostic Italian: Round One

Put your heart in my hand and just trust me,
Or you do not have to give me your trust.
Eventually, you will find the lust
That I have for you was easy to see.
Dakarai Cobb is who I must be
Each day until I return to the dust.
So, being honest with me is a must,
Trusting that my pen will always flow free.
Read me and my words like an open book,
Only to find out that I am a flirt.
You may want to keep an eye on this crook,
Even if he does not remove your shirt.
Remember, I want your engine to cook,
So when I start driving, it will not hurt.

| Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Poet Destroyer vs. The Acrostic Italian: Round Eight

Putting my kisses all around your neck,
Obligates you to do the same to me.
Electrify my soul and I will be
The one whose knees will quickly hit the deck.
Destroyer, I am now a nervous wreck,
Expected to pay the ultimate fee,
Selling my soul so I can set your free
To bounce, as if you had been a bad check.
Restitution will have to be paid back,
Or I may never pleasure you again.
You can take my payments off of your rack,
Extending the time to pay for a sin.
Royalties will always be in the sack,
So that I can always secure a win.

| Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

The Poet Destroyer vs. The Acrostic Italian: Round Two

Promise me that I can not offend you,
Or confuse you with my innuendo.
Every time I look in your window,
There is always something lovely to view.
Destroyer, I want to give you a clue!
Experience my touch when you then show
Sixty-nine things to do when you sin, though
Tonight I will let you do what you do.
Rely on me to satisfy your needs,
Or at least allow me to get you wet.
You can have all the rhymes that you can read,
Even the ones that I have not done yet.
Right now, I am trying to plant the seed,
So lets see how much moisture it will get.

Premium Member Poem | Details | Italian Sonnet Poem | |

Greet the Sun

Shall raw and bleeding wounds gape wide for thee
and overcoat each new parchments’ page?
Are thee foul succubus seeking a sage
undead and living vicariously?

Shall another’s soul flow unbound to thee
like a courtesan released from her cage
each tomes rich with crimson text overlaid.
So alone, thee can dine veraciously?

Shall life come a courting as thy subject?
Nay, lance the ripe boil of lassitude.
Purge thy barren cloister genuflect.

Author thine own life thee are not destitute.
Expand into the world, let life project.
Arise, pale spirit and the sun exude.