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Best Craig Cornish Poems

Below are the all-time best Craig Cornish poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Craig Cornish Poem |

A Perfect Storm

Beyond the bay the sun peeked over waves.
The calm belied what destiny would tell.
A statue peers where young men served and gave,
so far from Gloucester shores where seagulls yell;
so far from sheltered harbor's gentle swells, 
undaunted sailors dared the Flemish cap,
too far, as nature mixed a hopeless trap.

Like hungry beasts tempt fate to catch their prey
and stray beyond their tribal hunting grounds,
the George's Bank was left to stern that day
to go where surely greater catch abounds,
but while their hold was filled with bounty found,
two angry storms swirled in a deadly dance
and left the Andrea Gail without a chance

Her captain turned for port but could not know
such wrath of nature blocked their pathway home
and all the crew on wings of angels glowed
the face of God to trust, and not to roam.
Though oft in tumult's grasp they will bemoan
and think to sell their souls in Devil's waves,
yet safe in Heaven's grasp they will be brave.

Copyright © craig cornish

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Somewhere

I know it's there somewhere beyond the clouds,
beyond the snow which slowly falls and falls;
the babes of summer covered like a shroud
and arborvitae's shoulders like a shawl.
A mellow hint of yellow somewhere dawns
and splashes through the trees in hopeful rays.
The golden glow in morning skies adorn
horizon's clouds in colorful array.
Hues that lift the heart when winter goes -
when rapeseed blossoms smile back at the sun;
when white and pink and blue put on a show,
through fields of green and yellow we will run.
     Sunflowers stand and bow in prayerful hush
     like inspiration born from Vincent's brush.



Shakespearean Sonnet
Iambic Pentameter

Copyright © craig cornish

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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 | Craig Cornish Poem |

A Funny Sonnet for Kids

Fenmore the frog with the lopsided hop
would travel in circles till he tired and stopped,
then jumped into the pond with a giant kerplop
as the bullfrogs laughed and croaked till dropped.

It mattered not where Fenmore was bound,
even when swimming he went round and round.
Amongst all the pollywogs he was renowned
for going and going and not gaining ground.

Poor Fenmore had no trouble just staying busy
but circling and circling made him so dizzy.
He lived in a pond he never could cross,
but one thing's for sure, he never got lost.

So no matter your problems, or where you start,
you'll always get home, if you just trust your heart!


Modern Sonnet

Copyright © craig cornish

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Emerald Memories

Green are the hues of the Irish Sea,
wrapped by the grasses of the Emerald Isle;
fields strewn with heather where you came to me
with eyes of jade and a charming smile.
The moorland grasses where we ran and played,
washed by the briny scent of ocean breeze
that wafts through the moor like a serenade,
the days encore of a sweet reprise.
As verdant hills softly roll away
and seem to disappear in a distant bog
I think of you and those far gone days
and reach for your shadow etched in the fog.
     Your breath is the breeze that sweeps over the green
     and floats through the memories that I dream.


Mixed anapestic and iambic meter

Copyright © craig cornish

Details | Craig Cornish Poem |

Forever Young

What beauty shared with carefree steps -
your laughing heart would trip with grace
and lift our spirits as you slept,
a soul that's swept to our embrace.
Unfurrowed brow with silken cheeks
that blush with youthful innocence,
now safe within a world we'll seek
when all our days on Earth are done.
So wait Dear Heart, we will be there,
older and with tell-tale traces
from smiles of stories that we shared
reminded of your lovely face.
    In time, my darling, we will come
    to find you still forever young.

Copyright © craig cornish

Details | Craig Cornish Poem |

The Peach Orchard

Done in an iambic rhyme scheme similar to Tennyson's Lady of Shallot.
This, however, is about one of the conflicts at Gettysburg where thousands died.

The Peach Orchard

Oh such a spring in sixty three,
the orchard there for miles they'd see,
light shades of pink that tinged the clouds
on blossoms where the bees would crowd 
and dance from tree to tree.
The sun dropped yellow all around -
young lovers kissed outside the town
beneath the copse of trees.

The rumble of a summer storm
disguised the din of truth forlorn
as thousands marched this summer day;
our nation's sons in blue and grey,
like bees of spring they swarmed.
But not for life and not for play,
instead a pyrrhic death ballet -
the worst that man performs.

The orchard where they struck was shattered,
both limb of man and tree were scattered;
the rubble of their hate was thrown
where once a fruit of peace was grown -
blood and life is splattered.
But in these fields a seed is sown
and grows to bear a fruit that's known,
nourishing what matters.

The tears that drop like autumn leaves,
shed for the dead and those they freed
are buried by first winter's fall
and mourned by hound dog's lonely call -
now joined by mother's pleas.
While there a girl with tattered shawl
sobs for her love lost in the brawl
beneath the copse of trees.

Copyright © craig cornish

Details | Craig Cornish Poem |

December

Adorned in silky taffeta she strides -
cool, crisp, and confident.
With delicate lacy trim she glides,
a snobby sophisticated countenance
behind which a volatile temper hides.
Once quiet and sultry,
now chilling and unpredictable, she chides -
burning cold upon her breath
and breast where nature's wrath resides.
We've seen her dance before ...
our tempestuous winter bride.

Copyright © craig cornish

Details | Craig Cornish Poem |

Lonely Libraries

What tomes in lonely corners dwell
where undisturbed and rimmed with dust,
forgotten tales that once were held,
and stained with tears and love and lust,
now sit untouched like aging queens -
more interest in apparent heirs
like Kindle tablets with pageless screens -
dull bootless script where no one shares;
so empty when a page is turned;
no weight of paper in its place,
and when it's done, no conference yearned;
there is no book, just empty space.
      The halls where all the books are kept
      will haunt until their dust is swept.

Copyright © craig cornish

Details | Craig Cornish Poem |

Snowflakes

A million crystals made by God
now float in space like finest lace,
each one perfection - never flawed,
unique in six-fold symmetry;
then fall to earth in cold embrace
where moonlight dances brilliantly.

Reflecting back prismatic light
like nature's crystal chandelier,
embellishing this winter night,
then landing on your blushing cheek
and melting there just like a tear;
still drifting with the night's mystique.

A million crystals made by God
reflecting back prismatic light.


This is a Cornish Sonnet invented in Cornwall UK centuries ago.
It is 14 lines consisting of two sestets followed by a couplet.
The rhyme scheme is Abacbc Dedfef AD
Note that in this form the first line of each sestet are used in the couplet.
I chose to write it in Iambic Tetameter (not required but lines must be of similar length and flow.
and I chose to use enjambment (also not required)

I like the sonnet form because it is the right length @14 lines 
it has many varieties of sonnet to choose from and when it is done correctly
has a smooth flow. I think longer poems require more work to keep
the readers attention when a sonnet says it all more quickly. In my opinion a
poem should leave something to the readers imagination.

Written Dec. 8, 2015 By Craig Cornish
For the contest Poetry Writing #1
Sponsored by Broken Wings

Copyright © craig cornish

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