I find sanctuary in this sonnet
when as verdant hills rhymes do fall and rise
with aspens quaking in the windless skies.
One such will have blue birds flocking on it.
The trees shall be my muse and bid me write
while I in white gazebo am ensconced
with flowers vased, each color a nuance
in my lyrics, a-blush at first then white.
As I meander through a cloudless dream
the shades ever change in the wake of love.
Each line will fit my lyrics like a glove
while blue birds harmonize in morning's gleam.
Eyes of love are each an estuary
in the sonnet of this sanctuary.
Form S Contest
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017
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 | Year Posted 2011
Past portraits of ancestral knowing
keep our knowing alive through folk lore,
traditional lore is still showing,
habits showing convention before.
Observance comes before each pathway,
bygone pathway shows how we live now,
what manifests now is our new day,
where each day displays what fates allow.
Customs allow us our connection,
our connection to past is esteemed,
ancestors esteemed by protection,
the protection of what we have dreamed.
We achieve what we dreamed at long last
made to last through the rites of our past.
Copyright © Krow Fischer | Year Posted 2010
Scent of change upon the breeze,
as we bid farewell to Summer.
Hear the softly spoken murmur,
of leaves changing in the trees.
The cooler nights begin to tease,
as we reach for blankets, warmer.
We try to stave off Winters rumour,
in the last warm days we seize.
The moon's harvest ring shines bright,
seems to be made of a bed of talcum.
Homes are sheltered, windows shut tight,
yet emit a feeling of welcome.
Wood smoke lends its flavor to night,
as I walk in the birth of Autumn.
For the contest; September-Your Choice
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Copyright © Paula Swanson | Year Posted 2011
The moon doth appear in that dark horizon
And glistens with a beam of drifting light.
Let thy passions stroll with the companion
Of forlorn hovering clouds in moonlit night.
O Nature, sing not thy lonesome songs again
For I doth find a friend in each of thy cells.
I rejoice in thy touch even in wrecked pain
And my life hath mend its stuttering wheels.
Dazed weariness once mocked my forlorn being
Ere it came unto thy shelter, Mother Nature!
Whilst my morale dips in bosom, come and sing
A song of Love that warmeth every creature.
Nature hath a bliss that drenches our dry mind,
Pouring tender showers amidst the roughest wind.
(This is the first time I have tried to write a Sonnet, so, please pardon my shortcomings)
Copyright © Osman Gani | Year Posted 2011
I stand upon our Makakilo hill
And gaze toward the valley calm and still.
The brilliant sun will soon be rising high
Morphing rays of gold in the twilight sky.
The clouds are rimmed in light as Sol ascends.
Another day in paradise begins—
As birds begin their chorus in the trees
Our flag waves softly in Hawaiian breeze.
A floral scent embraces humid air
Of heaven's divine fragrance sweet and fair.
I love to rise before the dawn each day
Enriched by nature's wonders as I pray.
I see the good in all mankind and know
That peace will come to nations as we grow.
Happy Easter to Everyone!
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2010
A fall wind just did recon down the trail.
It's midsummer, this wind did not belong.
Cold, from the North, it noted all detail
of the terrain, although it didn't stay long.
I caught it unawares as it wove in
and out of trees still green and flowers strong
with scent, grasses while gold had life wthin
Bugs and butterflies still work all day long.
It must have noted that the blackberries were
just starting to ripen, a little slow
to be sure, and the stream was still a lure
to small boys walking against its down flow.
Could it be this wind's report will reveal
summer weak, and that fall will soon prevail?
Copyright © ahellas Alixopulos | Year Posted 2007
Those that must have fled the alien shore
or sought respite at home, secure
in knowledge that when the time is right
they will resume their never-ending fight
The piccturesque masks danger deep within,
ice covered pools with surfaces too thin
to bear the weight of unsuspecting feet,
a thin white line where sky and landfall.
And yet, hope springs eternal year by year -
a Christmas rose, all white, will oft' appear
to contrast with the red of robin's breast,
both with with the strength to fight the Winters' test.
Against the harshest elements to stand
another year, just as nature planned.
Copyright © Mike Roberts | Year Posted 2013
< enticing to eyes watching mama's pink roses bloom
fourty years later someone else now cares for them
fresh cut daily and seen in her arms their long stems
tears streaming down face I sit under swollen moon
waiting watching for sun to come up again soon
to catch one more glimsp of mama's planted old gems
unfurling petals before been chopped or condemned
think I'll ask if can take one for my dining room
aroma bursting amidst thy supper's table
bowed heads we come and thank our Heavenly father
somebody still cared though sick and times unable
and answers it's door for which one has come bothered
to let bask in roses empowering fable
and not to be called as it's one's roses robber
French Sonnet is a poem with rhyme scheme
Of ABBAABBA and CDCDCD
Or ABBAABBA and CDECDE
Syllable count is 12 syllable per line.
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011
Rivers roll, across the lands
and their song is heard, by many ears.
While oceans roll, upon the sands
and cry their crystal tears.
The tides will help to cleanse the earth;
sand-showers; they are free.
Though ocean-lands, may have a wide girth;
the tides will find it, yes siree!
Water is the source of life;
a precious, roaming gift.
A lack of water, produces strife
and sands, they cannot shift.
So pray, the rain, will always come.
To water’s music; life must hum.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014
A wakening to days with longer hours,
evening sun to dry the April showers,
and bluebell carpets through the woods appear
as if by magic, Summer's almost here.
The early morning skyline filled with song,
when one bird starts the others sing along,
harmonic chorus echoing the dawn,
inspiring life from seed and egg and spawn.
The colours grow to brighten each new day.
Laughter rings out from children at their play.
A clatter made by man pervades the air
form mower, trimmer, harvester and share.
A time to reap the largesse from the land
in preparation, just as Nature planned.
Copyright © Mike Roberts | Year Posted 2013
Sonnet From the Porch.. on Geese
Why linger still upon an ice bound pond
lone feathered symbol huddled warm and dry
dine upon the fresh sweet sprouting frond
unable to assault the fleeing sky.
Bloodline circle beckons join the draft
can nature’s simple truth become undone
weary wings abandon ageless craft
passing on the future to the young.
I cannot travel with them all their days
nor burden gaggle with slow flapping wings
while longing for the feel of old sun rays
watch as they depart for future springs
Thus rendered faster in their flight
seeking out their day and I my night.
John G. Lawless
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014
April 28, 2010
My Super Sonnet
Multiple overwhelming thoughts trample upon me in a wild way.
Stunned as well as in awe I am compelled to rise upon my own.
So then I thought no possible way, I will have to be overthrown.
Yes, I definitely have to be thrillistically creative every single day.
Now I am living it and now I know excellence so longer I stay.
Yeah, I do have it going on and got it all nailed to a white stone.
You see, now it is on! I’m sizzling hot up on my game full-blown.
Yes, yes, yes, we are on some kind of fire would you like to play?
I am going to think about you on this full moon.
Maybe you have dug yourself into a cozy grave.
Maybe you like the way I situate myself so soon.
Maybe its resistible greed or I’m just that brave!
Look! I’m feeling you out bringing you my super sonnet, a tat for tit.
Indeed! I’m your full spread of Par-Kay or Blue Bonnet, I’m up on it!
® Registered: Ann Rich 2010
Copyright © Ann Rich | Year Posted 2010
Gentle Wind Sonnet
East wind blew this far south today
gusts that soothed my weary soul
There at my sweet spot on the bay
sitting there in tree filled knoll
Songbirds singing to Spring's step
a melody of sun's splashing light
Beauty so fantastic I openly wept
dreading days ending into the night
Blossoms giving that fragrant smell
jostling branches right in tune
As if the earth rejoices to tell
fair weather right on into mid-June
Wind gusts that eased my old pains
gentle ones bringing no hard rains!
Robert J. Lindley, 04-25-2015
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
Sienna’s notebook matches the blue sky,
along with the stripes in her plaid shirt sleeves.
Cold pushes me and I wonder why.
The ground is littered with the trees’ old leaves.
Grass is dying from the lack of sunlight.
Trees constantly dance to their own wind song.
Ants run from it, thinking it is frostbite.
Leaves silently wish they could dance along.
Flowers wilt; frost covers like a blanket.
All the leaves in the ground are colorful,
not quite losing their bright colors just yet.
Plants die but nature is still beautiful.
The school buses getting cold from winter
resemble cheddar cheese on a burger.
Copyright © Seema Seredy | Year Posted 2017
< amidst grass carpet he plays
long ears bushy tail white paws
nibbles bulbs munches away
poor little thing had some flaws
hides hair braided and despaired
didn't stop this little guy
thought to self this wasn't fair
bowed head and started to cry
nectar is what he had sought
on this hopeful days journey
not to be trapped or be caught
or carted off on gurney
Mister Nibbles came to play
In garden's bedding today
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2011
When the winter winds have stole
their shivered breath,
And warmer now, snow is shed,
what lovely can bring when it sings;
(From mountains deep to waken sleep)
And gather the birds to their blossomed boughs,
singing their elated woody sounds,
(gently loitering in elder trees)
speckled chirps in forest green
Neath budding Sylvan mistletoe
the earth is born-again,
returns this ditty of long ago
(til rejoicing in leafy worlds)
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014
Here by the green glades and the babbling brook
Waters cascading bright like silver foam
The breeze rustling through pages of my book
Bring memories flooding of my sweet home
Where the sun reflects on the silent pool
Waters falling on rocks like silver spray
Trees resplendent in green, shady and cool
Skies darkening, turning a sullen gray
The setting sun burnishing gold, the trees
Sending bright shafts of golden glitter sprays
Sweet blooms dancing so gaily in the breeze
Like through a prism forming rainbow rays
Skies painted in range of hues bright and bold
Violet, pink, purple, orange, red and gold.
Copyright © Nandita Das | Year Posted 2016
Keeping—the Syllable Count
Knowing—How to Rhyme
This – is—What keeps is a—Sonnet
Annoying – Iambic—Line
Constantly – Chiming—and Gushing
Blowing—in Merciless – Gusts
And Yet—Still always reminding
Attend to it—While it lasts
Stemming from – Nature’s Rebellion
Or – Simply—Pressuring Air
Or If it’s Heaven—is Gentle
Just Quietly—Whispering There
Flying and Swimming—in Space
Gliding—with the – Utmost Grace
Copyright © Euginia Liapich | Year Posted 2013
A gentle being, is the rose;
though its nails can be quite sharp.
The lovely flower, I suppose;
controls the human heart.
For valentines, it bleeds so red;
for mother’s, yellow sun.
All will bow their lovely heads;
once their day is done.
Their fragrance, it will mesmerize;
all those who are near.
It doesn't matter, what their size;
lovers, they draw near.
So much more regal than the rest;
the rose, is nature’s family crest,
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014
A canvas high and felt traced tips
With background broad and tint azure
None posed in space with limbs being clipped
The sketch of liberty one saw
When pillars then in holes are tucked
Sore eyes in Gaya’s comfort seek
While plumes of sentiment are plucked
Love lingers on in love’s mystique
Time let the warble low to swoop
And beak like marble gloss to shine
Thoughts flicker on life’s endless stoep
In tandem with the sun that mimes
That morn when words and wheels are cleansed
Found true and veiled in mortal condensed.
Copyright © thabiso nkoana | Year Posted 2013
Seeing as how Georgia has mountains
That rise above the beautiful coast
Mountains gather snow some winter morns
Helen is quietly nestled there
Gold was found in those hills long ago
Still being mined today in Dalton
The blasts are felt at night__slight rumble
Gold awaits__the huge vein there they say
Down at coast awaits a day of play
Fun in the sun or boat ride on marsh
See the Dolphins greeting dance at river
Savannah Beach for a day or stay
Georgia has variety mountains high
Coastal plains____I can not complain
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010
Newly adopted toddlers mourN
Indemnity as locus standI
Event invites the employeE
Rodeo on the wealthy riveR
And the black gold run et ceterA
Nobles with black gold gains remaiN
Spectacles of other specieS
Opener ramains incognitO
Ne'er-do-well holds the horN
No one remembers the mooN
Expatriate the extra farE
Teach the gospel momenT
Copyright © AJAYI RASHEED | Year Posted 2013
Silver lining hides bold spider in tow
Remaining firm to particular state
Though whispered soft winds causes lines to fro
Forever true its bond to blanched white gate
Strong, therefore, the cord of this spider’s silk
Spinning correct, for it’s done in great deed
Although the roses, now scentless, will wilt
Steadfast silver web is not easily freed
Perfection, the master’s making is clear
It’s intent, to harbor a fine, good meal
Although you remove it in reckless fear
Spider shall rebuild its striking appeal
The delightful web requests no grand dread
High regards from me in spider’s great thread
Copyright © Marco Borda | Year Posted 2007
I must build a shelter, to fight off the cold.
A rugged fortress lest poachers return –
My bloody blazer, now, filthy fivefold!
I am shivering cold; fire won’t burn.
I stealthily creep seeking higher ground.
With every fear a worn mind can churn,
I crawl beneath some trees; more wood is found.
Two bundles, brushwood: birch twigs, logs, to burn.
I build a warm blaze upon the bare earth.
Then, cook up some vittles: vermin and fern.
While feeding my hunger, I loosen my girth.
Then, see a mineshaft; my hope starts to yearn.
Distantly hidden, completely unmanned.
Through the north woods I come, my bow in hand.
Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen | Year Posted 2014
What inward sight illuminates our way -
Whose lucid eye can all the ages span -
To see the Mystic Law that holds its sway
Beyond the endless birth and death of Man?
The luminary moon, when night is done,
Still rules the tides, though the daylight hides it.
The lotus always turns to face the sun
And yet what blossom eye ever guides it?
The cross-eyed men with intellect adorn
Their intuitions - blind who lead the blind -
The common mortals - blind when they were born -
With doubtful eyes that Truth could never find.
We look - we stare - we gaze and gaze - but we,
With sightless eyes, forever fail to see.
– Harley White
< October 6, 1999 >
Copyright © Harley White | Year Posted 2014
Precious gift bestowed upon us by Lord ,
is mother nature, the philanthropist
Who happily takes care of her wards
and shows mercy to her inhabitants
The Sun shines in morning to wake us up
Stars and moon illuminate the night sky
Birds chirp melodious songs to cheer up
Because of her grace,we boast ecstasy
She will never give us burden or pain
She grants us the imperishable love
Even dark clouds across the sky bring rain ,
the rationale behind graceful rainbow
But poor men incognizant of her worth
Trying to ruin the heavenly earth
This is my fiftieth poem.I just want it to be special and so I have chosen the Sonnet form.
Copyright © Supraja Kannan | Year Posted 2016
Great grin, glow, O glow, ‘til grizzled I grow, humming
Brightly bring bliss back before boredom burns me black
My morn muse minding merry mountains’ moulded rock
Tantalizes thoughtless thought that taunts thoughtless thing
Lulling, longing, life with you, my love lives each day
Whispering wind warmly wheeze words o’ awe, I feel
Forever, firm beauty you own, as always will
Be beauteous blossom, bed o’ boredom stays at bay
Dearest darling, don’t dare dry honeyed aroma
Tempest thorns o’ thunders though sure to us they throw
Yet, you-- yodelled youth o’ yore to death not to sow
And, Angels adore you-- Clematis Cirrosha
Let love o’ mine, for you, flow in the darkest night
Heart diamond o’ thine, how precious is your light
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2008
~ Sonnet: Special Moments
There are days when I want just to sit ‘round
and during this time relax just doing nothing
And from my porch enjoy views without frown
It's nice to dream and let go of many things
This day is nice and is not cold or warm
Is a great day and the sky is nice blue
No cloudy day no rain and not a storm
There's nothing now to ruin this precious day
I wish I do that in a day like this
But I know I can't stay too long that way
I want to remember good times ~ people I miss
I see butterflies I'm having a great day
I want to grab sheets and pen and write too
and friends this is the way I'm feeling today.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2008
(Written about 2005, as a sonnet, but I cannot recall why I used 13 rather than 14 syllables per line. Maybe Petrachan? Forgive me if it fails the sonnet test.)
For My Wife and Daughters: STREAMS OF CONSCIOUSNESS
eighty percent water in me wants unity here
oscillating in bones, gurgling words in my bloodstream,
verging on vigorous waterways, my own river
converging dreams, I take our daughters to park and stream
few, if any, waterfowl and fauna peek at us now
tiny tributaries of separation bring dirt
now, even in spring, the waters are still running low
no flowers or flora frolic between sky and earth
we inhabit deltas of exuberance, then the freeze …
shallows of calm showed my girls sunfish, pebbles galore
abounding like diamonds in my land of jealousies
now, as streams in the world begin to slow, run shallow
I am one in the God of all, born of Africa
my daughters’ bloodstreams murmur songs of America
Copyright © Anil Deo | Year Posted 2017