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Sonnet Son Poems | Sonnet Poems About Son

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

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Details | Sonnet |

The Preacher's Son

A lonely figure twirls itself, concealed
by blades of wheat as clouds float through the sky.
The form, a boy, looks up from golden field
and sees the clouds as wedges of cream pie.

He hides despair as if it were that wart
beneath his sleeve.  A no-fuss, lonesome lad,
he thinks of things most wonderful to thwart
forlornness. . . He rehearses being glad.

Skipping to the thicket, near a brier,
he spies some lovely flowers; standing there
he uses the demeanor of his sire,
pretends to hold a Bible, thumps the air. . .

and preaching to forget-me-nots, the boy
imagines what might be. . . imagines joy.

For Chris' Anything goes!

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sonnet |

Letter To Mom

Dear Mother,
Conceived in love, your passion gave me life
The very blood this heart pumps through these veins
A dream fulfilled as mother and as wife
I wonder now, if I was worth your pain

I did not walk the path you set me on
The gifts you gave to me are still like new
My body, I abused, A wasted pawn
I sang my song, performed my own soft shoe

But each thing I have done, I gave my all
Regardless of the deed, I did my best
I never asked you once to break my fall
Nor steal the grass or twigs that line your nest

At times in life, I know I've made you cry
Your passion, is my only alibi

                by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

When Darkest Of Blues Will Not Stop Pounding

When Darkest Of Blues Will Not Stop Pounding

Standing atop this high cliff, clouds floating on by
Watching last sunset, red-tint paint splashing blue sky
Now finding life, has stooped to beat me up again
Despite my deep courage, embraced through thick and thin
No honor felt in this lost state I am at
Broken wrangler with no horse, no damn cowboy hat
Just a dying soul, trying to live to hold on
Now that the beauty of life's colors have all gone 
Weeping into winds once found to be clear and fair
Missing that love, only mother and child can share
Glancing down, life and earth seems so damn far below
So many exits, yet I have nowhere to go 

Standing atop this high cliff, clouds floating on by
Watching last sunset, red-tint paint splashing blue sky

Robert J. Lindley, 2-17-2017

Note; One day gleaming sun does so shine. Next day it hides and laughs in wicked glee.
There is now a huge hole in me. I wish to drown, in the next storm in this dark, raging sea.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |


       Still the Worst Job Ever

How do I hold thee, let me count the ways.
I hold thee trembling, beneath kitchen sinks
crouched in the darkness of the brightest days
guiding thy beam as his patience shrinks.

I hold thee dulled by lightning’s fearsome flash
shakily awaiting  unseen anger
tortured by the inevitable crash
intrigued by the neediness of danger.

I hold thee wide eyed in dirt-floored cellar 
your flame slow flickering on edge of sight
dimming through the range of yellowed color
draining the darkness from a darkened night.

I hold thee, for my brothers all have fled
I hold thee, not knowing what they dread.

Submitted for - Sara Kendrick -  Jobs – Poetry Contest

Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

My Soul To Water

In nights, in stillness those small hours
The clock’s quick hands caress me more
Than I can remember yours
Once held me close so long before

I am no lamb but still think: slaughter
Is what this is, and in despair
I turn to stone, my soul to water
You were so much, but never fair

I count the myriad smithereens
You left floating in the moonlight
Feeling in transit, Bedouin
Nowhere at home, fearing daylight

     Your warm heart was a home to me
     It’s cold now, lacks humanity


April 12, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

Morning Has Broken - Sonnet for my Mom

Early this morning, the song of blackbirds
quell the swell of silence enfolded by night.
Dim light on a distant ridge: the sun returns,
freed from Atlantis, drenched in the cloak of life.
Soft dew-drop showers dapple the dusty 
garden with pops of pastels like lavender,
lilac, tea rose and pink, from clouds that carry
cleansing tears of a newborn’s young mother, 
the potter protective her infant clay.
She picks up her child, a fragile bowl, chipped,
frail from thirty years spent running away,
now run aground as a twice sunken ship.
Her hands keep a promise, one quietly spoken,
made long ago when the morning had broken. 


- For my mother who sang me Cat Stevens'
   Morning has Broken the day 
   I was born.

Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

Teenage Blues

My whinny,crabby, hungry teen
Your stinky,spoiled and quite mean
You want, you need, you have to have
The latest,newest, modern fad

Your greasy, grimy, hands smear
My wall, light switches, and the mirror
Empty snack bags,with sweet and sour
Create tall,extensive buildings that tower

Your messy,your dirty,in need of a shower
Please make it quick,not loiter an hour
Your smelly,nasty, disgusting shoes
Are slowly  poisoning every room

Even with big mouth,rolling eyes and sighs
I would not trade you, I surmise

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013

Details | Italian Sonnet |

Farmer's Seed

You are the salt of the earth;
Farmer, we say that to you;
You are hardworking and true;
We recognize your worth.
To the crop you give birth,
The soil, you subdue,
Cornstalks break through,
to avert famine and dearth.

But where is your son?
He’s not learning how.
He won’t be outdone—
living the life of high brow,
He forfeits work in the sun,
renounces his seed and the plow.

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

The Man in the Middle

Our love had been built on a firm foundation
Trust, compassion and fidelity as well
I thought there’d be no cause for consternation
We thrived for a time in a magical spell
He was my white knight and I remained his belle
Never a doubt, certainly no confusion
Any misgivings his blue eyes would dispel
But moving in marked the end of illusion

~~~~~~~~~ Volta ~~~~~~~~~~
His son emerged from video seclusion
This twenty-year-old had never worked a day
He found my presence to be an intrusion
He flung jabs in attempts to drive me away
Thought we had it all, but his son was the boss
Now I’m struggling to recover from this loss

*Entry for Dr. Ram's Spenserian Sonnet contest

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Italian Sonnet |

A Visit With My Dad

On hands and knees brown leaves were brushed away
My fingers traced his name engraved in stone
The birds remind me how the years have flown
As tears of shame and guilt fell where he lay

My mind looked in my heart for words to say
"You are the wisest man I've ever known
Before your death our conflicts were atoned
But void inside my heart has not decayed

I taught my children values which we shared
And looked after my mother like you asked
The pain I caused you still makes me feel sad
I just want you to know that I still care

My love for you still lives though you have passed
If you can hear me now, I miss you dad."

  an original poem by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 15th Birthday

Juvenescence shines like the sun's slow climb,
  and I see a bird not yet flown its cage;
I hear the footsteps in the march of time -
  a journey of self, a coming of age!
For you, Peter Pan on wings of an elf
  who the power of eternal youth seeks,
must fly its limits lest your second self
  hidden from you conceal your own mystiques!
So seek not Neverland - not yours or mine, 
  and love your God with all your heart and soul,
nor misspeak and cast your pearls before swine
  for all that you do bears a living toll.
And son, in your shared purpose be like them
whoso rise above the hubris of men.

                 March 2015

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

Early Winter Farm Chores

Early Winter Farm Chores

Shall I muse at midnight on the morning sun
now hiding very far beyond the pale.
Dread farmyard chores needing to be done
as morn sun rises over hill and dale.

Warm in bed, staying would be a disgrace
when winter marches in far too soon.
Tarry late and hot glowing embers embrace
to rise late only in a lazy afternoon!

Or instead jump from this warm , soft bed
racing on out when red rooster crows.
Quickly getting pigs and chickens well fed
all long before the cold winter snows!

Up early before morning's sweet sunlight.
Another farming day, another long fight.

Robert J. Lindley, 10-01-2015

Note-- Edited an older poem from back in the 80's.
Shortened into a sonnet..

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 6th Birthday

It is no small mercy, no small ransom,
  no trifling importance favoured on me.
You are a child in time whose time has come,
  and I love you, Little Man, desperately!
For I am cheerful in hope and all things
  that the bright stars are yours to noble aim,
and guide you to the Valley of the Kings
  or ghost ship treasure on the Spanish Main.
Let adventure and crossing fill your days
  and may God watch over you to your grave!
So learn well beginning in youthful gaze
  that time is your master and not your slave.
You are to me by a nature so great
living proof good things come to those who wait.

                    March 2006

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 5th Birthday

When only in my state of thanksgiving
  I count riches and all avail it brings;
I am imbued of great joy reliving
  and I am wiser to wonderful things.
Memento Mori and Carpe Diem!
  There is much to see and much to begin,
so live well and long that in years to come
  you not look back and muse what might have been!
Now if from your helping cause I abstain,
  or when in lonesome brooding I am sad
in futile excess, I'll beg once again
  to hear you curing say "I love you dad!"
Oh wife and child it's you and only you
that makes me love and do the things I do.

                   March 2005

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Infinity and beyond

Deserve the world my child,my son
If I could give, with heart I'd run
Pray instead, I must for you
Placed many tools to get you through
Life ahead unknown my son

So much I wish, your dreams ignite
Strive for all, please shine that light
Become the man I know you'll be 
But please for you and not just me
Dig deep inside with every might

Strive for all thats due, you'll see
Deserving much from world, not me
Kindness, compassion, intelligence too
Owning these gifts, build confidence in you
By example, trust, live life for thee

Accept these words I give from me
My child, a man will come to be

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |


Those sapphire eyes and kissable cute cheeks - I held you and I knew I was in love. The moment I'd been dreaming of for weeks was perfect, and it came from God above! Home from the hospital, how our life changed! Though challenging at first, it was worthwhile to have our sleeping patterns rearranged. What precious memory was your first smile! And now you've grown. We're many miles apart. How wonderful you are, my darling boy! Do not forget you're always in my heart. My precious son, you are my pride and joy. The loving feelings that I have for you will stay with me, dear son, my whole life through. 10~30~15

Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

''Who doubts the tender love of a Parent''

Who doubts the tender love of a Parent
(whose love is here and present to the end
for showing and for giving to attend
to ev'ry son's and daughter's contentment)?
Parents love when one's loved by no other;
it is a truth of nature to commend,
a law that one cannot break or transcend:
a tenet of life unlike another.
Out of tender love, Parents pray away
the evils in their children's paths all day long 
that they walk in the straight and narrow way,
and then grow wise and may know right from wrong.
      A Parent's love's by far a greater love,
      a child's right that no one can remove.

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 13th Birthday

His the archer's bow - straight his arrowhead -
  on foot and trails swift as the running deer!
And long his hair the eagle feathers spread
  in a tribal war bonnet he does wear.
My boy the dreamcatcher, the hunter brave
  in buffalo horn and porcupine quills...
ghost of the warrior chief in the grave
  whose heart lies on the plains and in the hills,
where beats a drum and burns a campfire -
  a child of the Great Spirit in the sky!
Like the roebuck leaping farther, higher,
  chasing a dream in the wind and the rye.
You are the Indian bark - the sacred tree -
a totem from the depth and breadth of me.

                March 2013

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Birthday Sonnet For My Son

What is it like to be my little hero?
A morning chat would mean great adventure
A ride with your imaginary aero
Would fly us to places never gone before

Inside your world, we made things possible
We are both so strong to save the world
With unique powers, you are unstoppable
Put an end to villains with your mighty hurled

Within you, I see my own reflection
Full of imagination and a dreamer
Someday your dream would have a clear perception
What best for you, I would be your defender

Every day is like a blink of an eye
At 7 years old, time hastily flies

Noel N. Villarosa
19 April 2014

Posted also in: www.pinoylifefacts.blogspot.com

Copyright © Noel Villarosa | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

White or Black

During the seventies, deep in the South;
I was white but raised black by a black man.
As a boy, I have watched the Ku Klux Klan
on the news—I felt unsafe as a black youth
who looked white. In those days, it was uncouth
and a mark of disgrace to be less than
the white son of a white man and woman:
even then I could feel this racist truth.
Two-score years have passed and I’m still confused,
anxious and unclear as to what or how 
I should be—am I white or black? (Abused
as a child, I relate to him still now.).
      Granted, it’s no joy being me—like this;
      but it’s better than being a racist...?

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

Changing of the Guard

 Was early spring in my thirty-ninth year
   when that which I covet most brought new lease,
 and on my first watch would elated stare
   upon worshipped eyes shut in newborn peace.
 Thirty-nine years before first gazed my own -
   my tiny hands clutched in my father's palms,
 O but that love was hidden and not shown,
   and thus I shall spare you no such alarms!
 In your helpless lay - in first sleep of babes
   the future becomes yours, and now I trust
 I will see its light before my own fades,
   and remember to wait if wait I must.
 When I look at you looking back at me
 I see an avatar of God's glory


                      July 2004

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 14th Birthday

By the grace given me one year older
  great is the bearer of my salvation;
and I, father, keeper, and upholder,
  glory in the sum of my creation!
Follow your heart and speak its depth and scope,
  and let not dreams be spoken of as fear.
Remember to remain joyful in hope,
  patient in affliction, faithful in prayer!
Do not spoil or vex but contrary do
  when this world means to oppose or revenge;
be steadfast in what you know to be true
  and forsake what is not yours to avenge.
To you ascribed are the fortunes of youth -
its virtual joys and virtual truth.


                March 2014

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 16th Birthday

 Take not for granted mercies near and dear
   nor cede to a possessive pride - rather
 incline yourself to elemental care
   and honour true your mother and father!
 Seek for a saving grace a divine plea
   with all forward action that bears your claim;
 heed it in plenitude and paucity,
   and when in awe you call upon His name.
 Fear not this life, this world, this mortal end,  
   for both its burdens and rewards are great;
 follow its road wherever it may wend
   and I hence from shall on your return wait.
 With all I am I'll love the son you are
 no matter how old, how close, or how far.


                     March 2016

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

To Oscar on His 11th Birthday

Yours is the golden crown of King and fold
  such as are counted the Children of God;
soldier of the host great and manifold
  to every peaceful realm and battled sod!
Prove incorruptible and heed this wise:
  the rule of men are not mighty to save;
their inward ravenings crudely devise,
  and thus their only refuge is the grave!
Divine is the child numbered in his days
  whose shield I hold and whose menace I bear,
whose stamp of nature does a quiet strength raise -
  cleave to it lest your heart fail you for fear!
Watch and seek, and rewarded you will be,
else all that becomes you is vanity.

                   March 2011

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

You My Son Shall Venture Forth Without Fear

You My Son Shall Venture Forth Without Fear

You my son shall wander into vast halls,
sit by craggy rocks upon mountain peak.
Hear the wisdom in Nature's sweetest calls,
wade in deeper where rushing waters speak.
Listen to night owls as they softly hoot,
see the slow sinking moon sparkle anew.
Walk soundly, learning to ride, rope and shoot,
sail daringly upon great oceans blue.
You my son shall venture forth without fear,
face the darkest storm and its mighty blast.
Hold out against great pain without a tear,
catch fish on each and every thoughtful cast.

Yes, you my son, shall do better than I.
This my last prayer asks before I die.

Robert J. Lindley, 4-13-2016

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 	10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables: 	140
Total # Lines: 	15  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: 	 
Total # Words: 	107

NOTE-  Written 7 years ago(Justin was then two years old)- edited today(shortened) to be a sonnet.
Cut out 14 verses and altered the rhyme scheme to match.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Driving Lessons

Mother and son, a moment in time,
One wants to live, the other to drive.
First of firsts, young son at her wheel,
Both on a journey, spanning their lives.

Indian summer, bluebonnet skies,
Escaping together into painted fields.
One from the cage with its rigid design,
And one from the sadness that family yields.

Exhilaration, he drives through his fears,
Faster and faster, wheels hum and glide.
Silent emotion, she tempers her tears,
Out on the highway they sit side by side.

All those years later, with memory pure,
His son sits beside him, steady and sure.

Copyright © James Fredholm | Year Posted 2012

Details | Sonnet |



Copyright © Ivan Petryshyn | Year Posted 2016

Details | Italian Sonnet |


Brought U up 2 know right from WRONG
Was hard on U so you’d B STRONG
Looked up 1 day & U was GONE
Chasin Raw Dollaz, go getta getting ON

Somebody told me U got crossed at the SPOT 
One drop of a dime & the Block got HOT
Held back my tears, got ova the SHOCK
Swallowed my fears, put my jewels in HOCK

I know at first it was done for ME
That’s why I come to set U FREE
So U may Repent B4 U enter a PLEA
Face the consequence multiplied by THREE

I got this feeling this may Be my DOIN
2 hard on U coulda lead to yo RUIN
My bad lil one I didn’t KNOW
I held so much love I failed to SHOW

U needed yo Momma, it makes me SAD
I worked all nite, neva knew yo DAD
But you’ll be A’ite, give it time you’ll SEE
It’z hard to admit but U a beast like ME

Datz why I accept U 4 who U ARE
A man, A Felon, My Sun, My STAR

Copyright © tone jaxson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Sonnet |

Father and Son

In that similitude of my own gaze
  I am akin you and you akin me,
and in me are your Arthurian ways...
  old man, I am your son and proud to be!
In the dark days and darker nights of us
  when over our home hung a deadly ken,
I saw myself in all that you compass
  and repute you among the best of men.
So it is in the time of tide and flow
  that between us there was ebb and distance,
yet I know I will miss you when you go 
  and hold dear the years of least resistance.
I have a son, and love him more I can't;
he in time might forget you but I shan't.


                 October 2004

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Me the infant, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel's L'Enfant moi by T Wignesan

Me the infant, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s L’Enfant moi by T. Wignesan

The infant a stranger to me who grew up poet
You whom he missed even in his sleep
He who had to disinter himself upon waking
Every day in his quest with increasing effort

He who had not known your breast nor lap
Manically he sought your odour in bed clothes
Sniffed under the covers your sphinge haïr
And searched every bush for your mystic antrum

In vain forgot blackness of breasts in death
More avidly survives the memory of your milk
Longer I live more the haunting infant pleases me
When the eternel Night projects her by the threshold

At death the infant’s visited by the maternal shadow
Dissociated as two blue perfect globular moons

Note : Original rhyme schème of sonnet : 
      abba cddc effe gh)

( from Sophia, O.C. t. II, p. 348) 
© T. Wignesan – Paris, October 15, 2014

Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2014