Sestina Son Poems

These Sestina Son poems are examples of Sestina poems about Son. These are the best examples of Sestina Son poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sestina |
My demeanor, the aftermaths of recklessness 
A child once, a man to soon
The glory to my name gone, the grace faded
Change do I offer no opposition to 
Derogatory remarks, have I afforded restraint    
A new cry heard; my steps subtle.

Your age, can I speak not of 
Every moment, filled with more youth than the first
Memories created; gems remembered
Your hand in mine, a single entity we formed  
For each other, were our lives
The joy spent, a cost to you. 

A meeting of hearts, the night inspired
The ecstasy unspoken, but felt
Our naivety the error, unconsidered
An unthought conception, implanting itself
Impulse driving our passion, forth
Creators we became; the end I found. 

Your figure lost, its voluptuousness 
Atrocious had you seemed, to my young mind
The tips of your caress on my palm, offered no connection
Conditions to my love, a reality 
Together could we be, never again
The burden was yours, my eyes were free. 

To witness I chose, an obligation it was
The lights so bright, intensity I felt
Your tears and screams, nourishing life
The mistake shadowed, by bare beauty
My hands were gifted with purity; my luggage fallen 
Reconciliation was to late, but my hands knew no release.  

My depart planned, my destination unmoved
His gentle touch, redirecting my path
The regrets unknown, my chin's resemblance I admire 
Your forgiveness, I do not desire
Mutual feelings, the base of our relations
A conditional love, the root of an unconditional one. 

Once a burden, now a source of joy
The end of had I decided, devoid of reconciliation
His subtle cries, owning my love.

Copyright © Keshan Govender | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sestina |
Halloween is not just for kids...
what about those gorgeous pets
that we snuggle, love, kiss and willfully spoil?
Shouldn't they have their own
special Howlween and Meowween
with treats never tasted in a bright party hall?

I love pets as you all do, and with loving and tender care    
I spoil them with warm clothes and matching shoes;
a wool hat and tiny gloves to keep them from frost!
Look at them, aren't they adorable and look sharper 
than the less-loved pets that are bored with their blues?  
Can you compare a well-groomed one to a scruffy one? 

On this coming Halloween, dress up your pets for success,
disregard the dumb looks of certain unintelligent folks,
they never see humor in anyone or anything, and they can't laugh
at these cuties that have a ton of affection on their mellow faces;
what would they do to be patted or be cuddled in their embrace?
They would give them their howleen and neowween for a soft caress!

And on every street people walk their dogs and cats dressed like mine,
what a surprise to watch this parade of adorable pets that look up and smile!
They will never know who was the genius behind all this, but gently and happily they stroll!
So who's to say that Halloween isn't for them? They're like our children who delight our soul!
And on each Halloween night, let them out, and let them do their Howlween and Meowween,
to enjoy the Halloween celebration, but tomorrow they'll not remember where they had been!

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sestina |
Noble troubadour making untrue verse,
while traveling from town to town on the dustiest roads,
reciting the lamenting lyrics to yourself,
and the echo is louder than words of folly growing within;
hold your anger inside, let it explode
in the castle's Great Hall, where all will listen, indeed! 

Monarchy is an undefeatable fortress,
and below you seem not to fret;
enter it when the trumpets announce
the king's arrival in a golden coach
pulled by stallions who snort at your sight,
but you fearlessly follow them before the wooden gate closes on the bridge.

Noble troubadour decrying a denied liberty, making
your living writing undesirable, undeserved odes,
you're forced to lie and please your demanding king
who manipulates your behavior by tight strings;
should you offer no praises or allegiance to the crown...
you'll be charged with disloyalty and treason! See yourself in the torture room!

There's a limit to your patience bearing the guilt,
and be able to lift it off your will crush you under its weight,
until your reason turns into discernible madness,
and rising up from your sore knees, you'll relinquish your duty...
to regain your freedom from a kingdom built on obedience and vanity;
and what will be the the outcome of your refusal to bow down?...The peace of a free spirit!

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009