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Spring Sonnet Poems | Spring Poems About Sonnet

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

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Details | Sonnet |

MEGAN'S HIT - the Baseball Sonnet

      MEGANS HIT - the Baseball Sonnet
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"

I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!

I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!

    He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
    to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!


"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
(the umpire was my Daddy, in this game.)

I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!

"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!

   Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
   while I choked up--and readied for a hit!

All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"

The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!

I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!

   The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
   a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!


The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!

The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be 
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!

The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"

   Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
   and on his heels--I made my promise good!


We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!

The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!

I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
    Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
    the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Inspired by Debbie Guzzie's sonnet March Goosebumps

March brushes past us, in its blustery haste

And we, who stand where Winter’s chill once laid waste,

Watch in awe, the breath of Spring ignite the earth.

Around cold Winter’s girth, warm Spring wraps its mirth.

We know, after every death, there is rebirth.

Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Last Sonnet

Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.

Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Suzette Prime |

spring sonnet

spring sonnet 

The vines are greening and the old man who owns the vines 
was busy trimming them although it was Sunday and church 
bells chimed He is very old 92 last year, and it was father’s day 
a few days ago. He never married, but every bush is his child 
And he gives them equal time. He is in many ways a lucky man 
the vines love him, he knows that, leaves softens in his caring 
hands that carry a promise of everlasting worship.
On father’s day, I never left the house, sat by the phone waited 
for a call from my daughter, she is everything I never achieved, 
my futile dream of respectability. 

A whisper of a wind came through the open window, gently told 
me that my cherished is a figment of my dreams of perfecting.
Then an irate storm cast rattled the window, your real daughter was 
born in poverty in Kingston, Jamaica, the child of a prostitute and 
she became one too.

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

Blossom Sonnet

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, 

   ages old

   returns this ditty of long ago

   (til rejoicing in leafy worlds)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Sonnet for Spring

A golden light shines over all the land –
In night-time’s silence cloaked with pearl-drop dew –
Such wonders found in nature here at hand,
And yet, it seems, my eyes see only you.
The songbirds choir in blossom-laden trees
Their counterpoint the skylark’s soaring air;
The whole of spring now wakes from autumn’s leaves,
Yet I think only of your raven hair.
No shining day could ever match your spring,
No flower by an artist’s eye yet seen;
Where you alight, the angels softly sing –
You are the one, my only perfect dream.
Yet I can’t describe, mere foolishness to try,
Your perfect beauty, now captured in my eye.

Copyright © Adam Brown | Year Posted 2009

Details | Sonnet |

SONNET for Mother's Day to My Wife and Daughters

(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.)

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

Details | Sonnet |

Where the Dillies Wend (Pushkin Sonnet)

In pale sunshine as Winter bids farewell
A pretty face appears to spark a smile
Of golden dreams to cast a lighter spell
And thoughts of spring in languid minds compile.
On peaceful mornings, bird song finds its voice
As snow begins to melt as if by choice
It knows it's time is done as Spring is near
When daffodils in bloom restart the year.
The viridian blades in breezes bend
To dance with gilded maids in vernal days
These images of Spring enchanting eyes to gaze.
And dreams now follow where the dillies wend
Where candles flicker with merriment and mirth
To Mother Nature's triumphant rebirth.

Copyright © Jemmy Farmer | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sonnet |

Sonnet To Spring

How lovely lies this gentle season's face,
upon the fields and plains that fore were cold.
Renewing life for trees and kind with grace,
her sway turns winter scenes to days of gold.

Now she stirs amid mountain peaks on high,
oft melting snow to glisten streams and lakes.
This breeze that rustles sylvan glade with sigh,
returns to home the geese and mallard drakes.

The ocean's fury quiet close to shore,
responds in like to sweet Elysian dreams.
The sailor keeps appointment times once more,
and trollers ply their trade again in teams.

Springtime with great imbuing grace to heal,
your humble peasant deigns this time to kneel

Copyright © Alfred Berggren | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

Just A Sonnet III

Words fade as a soup in water
Roses are not merely red, you just never heard
From time to time she consumed time like a time slaughter
Winter is gone, the coldness still is kinetic, he's a caged bird.

Through drought, famine and natural disasters
The love survived, naturally selected, yet they possessed scars
Spring used to come with blooming,
Now all it brings is glooming -

Then nothing was so beautiful as Spring,
Now it saddens the heart 'cause the thrush ain't here to sing
Roses turn brownish, yellowish and wither 
All was lost in the flame of love, hither.

Dwell on the thought of the infertile soil,
At least the weeds never spoil…

Copyright © Khazamula Mhlongo | Year Posted 2017