Best Italian Sonnet Poems
She rests beneath her willow’s weeping rain,
As autumn strips them bare behind its theft;
Of slender leaves and tears, they stand bereft,
Yet sorrow, like the wind, begins to wane.
For all that falls to earth won't fall in vain,
And what escapes our sight has not yet left;
Though heavy hearts must carry now this heft,
It's how we know what’s lost to still remain.
And from the tears, the grieving willow weeps,
Its twigs and leaves descend to softened ground,
Reclaimed by earth and soil from which they grew.
For all that's ever buried merely sleeps,
And what we mourn as lost again is found,
When spring returns, and life begins anew.
Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.
Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow.
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.
I'm named a willow tree and live in grace,
the whole of me distinctive in its shape.
My elegance well suits this lush landscape
of hillocks flung across the field I face. . .
and gentle rills meander through this place.
In spring I don a long virescent cape
comprised of many supple arms that drape
to earth and, with Eve’s shadows, interlace.
Oh, countless times Sun’s flecked my every leaf
and Sky distilled her stars as night would creep.
Young lovers, though, have fled, their time so brief.
They used to spread a cloth to eat; then sleep
beneath me in my shade. They knew no grief. . .
Not privy to their destiny, I weep.
As days grow longer, melancholy creeps
An uninvited guest, which winter brings
It dims the candle my mind tightly clings
Consuming light, from darkness whence he leaps
In doldrums dark, my heart held captive weeps
Held hostage by north winds that bite and sting
Entombed by winter's chill, awaiting spring
Time slowing to a crawl whilst nature sleeps
But then one day in March, an equinox
The light begins to overtake the dark
In color, daydreams dawn as dark does fade
Sad melancholy flees through fields of phlox
Now freed from winter's bonds, my heart embarks
To chase spring's sun into the summer shade.
by Daniel Turner
Your Look of Precious Love
Whilst I gaze so warmly in your eyes my dearest,
I see deeply your pure angelic soul of love
Reflecting like a radiant flight of a dove,
Charting its flight on so high emotions purest!
Our spirits ascend high in the sky so clearest
To the very boundaries of Heaven my love,
Where the power of brightness is God’s best above.
Your look of precious love is always mine dearest!
When we kiss so passionately our lips so melt,
As we caress warmly emotions are so felt!
Why we do this darling defines our love so dear,
As counts the worth of angels’ blessings to be here!
How we love each other so matters on God’s Earth,
Your look of so precious love exceeds all gold’s worth!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
December 05, 2014 (Petrarchan Sonnet)
The sandman will take pause and say a prayer
Then reach in to his special bag of sand
And with a sweeping motion of his hand
Bright glitter colored stardust fills the air
It falls to bring a dream beyond compare
Where castles in the sky are gold and grand
A momentary glimpse of "Beulah Land"
As we envision life beyond death's stare
And with that thought we'll take a rattled breath
The last tear of this life will find release
We'll see our shooting star, a passing flash
Exhale our soul and welcome life in death
Then build our castles on white clouds of peace
The sandman will sweep up our sparkling ash
by Daniel Turner
I got a love that's never gonna die
Your love has breathed new life into me,
has filled my heart that was once empty
I got a love that's alive and spry
A fragrant violet voice has revived the old bones,
turning back the clock is a good thing
Gave me a pep in my step, a soul zing
Your love rekindled the flame that was long gone
How could you know that you would affect me so,
make me to rise up from my slumbering deep
Go walking to the garden of orchid waking dreams
A shower of kindness make the seeds of your love grow,
blossoms of smiles move my undressed heart to weep
My love for you will never die, for it has been redeemed
Young love is pure - like snow when fallen new -
and always I’ll recall one wondrous day!
Through dawn, soft powder fell; clouds lingered grey
until mid-morning. Splendid sun shone through
the gloom, and sky turned periwinkle blue!
Excited, we ran laughing, out to play
in snow, which all around us brightly lay.
But never did I guess what would ensue. . .
You chased me, until breathless, we both dropped
onto a blanket of sheer white, and then
a snowflake touched my mouth. Your fingertips
began to trace its shape, until you stopped. . .
Your gaze became intense, and that is when
you bent to kiss the snowflake from my lips.
Inside my heart I have unwritten codes
Those values I enforce by self demand
Unbreachable, my lines drawn in the sand
Their presence helps to navigate my load
With age my principles have not grown old
Though times may change, the heart's still in command
I'll walk a line to lend a friend a hand
My conscience keeps my boundaries patrolled
And even though I do my very best
I make mistakes, sometimes I cross a line
That does not mean I'll compromise the rest
It simply means that I am not Divine
There may be times when I'm falsely assessed
But my self worth is rarely in decline
by Daniel Turner
Thank you, Mr. Rogers (yes, his real name!)
for rescuing me from teenage purgatory.
Perplexed teenager, lacking social lumen
pulled C's in English, D's in History -
my dreadful retrograde trajectory
projected no collegiate acumen,
in prom discussions, practically subhuman!
Then, your poetical geometry
and sleek Cartesian choreography
became my sailing ship, and I, its crewman.
Derivatives soon danced in arcs non-static.
Pythagorean proofs helped me progress,
vectors resolved problems that once would vex.
Your agile algebra of joy quadratic:
my new hypotenuse of happiness
helped me to find myself... I solved for x.
Written 13 March 2020
My love come and partake of my garden
My heart is in full bloom with love for you
Shower me with kisses like morning dew
This love i have will not fade nor harden
Please come caress each petal with your touch
Before we met my garden was empty
It was filled with many thorns and was lonely
My darling I needed your care so much
Darling you're the gardener of my dreams
You tend to each flower with so much love
You are a precious gift from up above
We're the perfect match and make a good team
Your love is so comforting, you don't push or shove
You are my shooting star and my moon beam
11-25-16
Alexis Y.
When all the lines you crossed but didn't see
Grow darker by the day upon your face
Your rosy blush of youth has been erased
And cheeks are drawn where dimples used to be
Your train of thought fueled by a memory
Runs tracks of time that don't lead anyplace
The stops along the way will be retraced
Then one day it will stop in front of me
I'd like to think the pause will bring a smile
Your heather colored eyes would brightly bloom
Your heart would beat the rhythm of a rhyme
You'd disembark and stay a little while
And when you blink I'll be back in the moon
The smile so warm it lasts until next time
by Daniel Turner
To live forever! Think how it might be!
Oh Fount of Youth more prized than all earth’s gold.
To be as ancient gods and not grow old!
To banish all disease and see death flee
before the face of immortality!
With less to dread, would we become more bold?
Alas, the fate of mortals is foretold.
We live with dying and its misery.
But death is not the end. We’re here to learn.
The planet Earth is our brief testing ground,
and when we die, our spirits then take flight.
Perhaps to earth in new forms we return!
But to our graves I know we are not bound
because, at last, we’ll travel to God’s light.
March 3, 2017 An Italian Sonnet
for Broken Wing's I Form( Immortal theme) Poetry Contest
Now for ''I'' Contest New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
(thanks for letting us resurrect older poems!)
It's to the corner kids must sometimes go,
or to their room they're sent and kept alone.
Their freedom gone, they stare at walls and groan.
When time is up, they've not one thing to show!
Of poets, there are some who undergo
a similar reaction. They bemoan
their ever being sentenced to the "zone"
of writing in a form that stifles flow.
Like embryos enclosed within the womb
and sucking on their toes, they wait to be
thus freed from "Mother" Poetry (Oh, doom!)
In contrast, I implore you: Keep that key
and leave me here - restricted. I shall bloom
inside this little room. Do punish me!
Beguiling spring, how bold your arrogance
You shameless season painted in conceit
Parading up and down each city street
O'er hill, through dale, you flaunt your elegance
Each tree, each flower, bathed in decadence
Each gale, each breeze, your moods so indiscreet
Each dawn you send your birdsong out to greet
A vain display of your benevolence
And yet each year we welcome your return
With song and poem, we celebrate your style
We rush to be the first to photograph
A daffodil, a bud, a waking fern
You always make that winter wait worthwhile
On every heart you leave your autograph.
Daniel Turner