Music Italian Sonnet Poems | Examples
These Music Italian Sonnet poems are examples of Italian Sonnet poems about Music. These are the best examples of Italian Sonnet Music poems written by international poets.
I’m as a dare—If just you’ll come along,
and give my noble providence a shot,
seeing what boundless bounty might be got,
you’ll sing me a river, cry me a song.
So if you trust that I can do no wrong,
and yield yourself to untying this knot,
finding this vacant vessel full of thought,
you’ll sing me a river, cry me a song.
Another hint may here do well to tell:
I am music not written for the ear,
a painting—that I am—though not in view.
Being seen, being heard, casting my spell,
I fascinate; this is my blissful sphere.
So know you now, which fancy sings to you?
Again the well of poetry was dry,
My pail was drawing up no deep inspired
Thought or subject matter. All was dull, tired,
Stale water, no exciting trick to try.
Once more the fountain gave me naught but sigh
And sigh of lukewarm breadth — of old expired
Content, no fresh drop of song so desired.
Blessed muse of music, you heard my dire cry!
Pulling at the cord, hoisting and heaving,
I felt the bucket slosh again—with life!
Patiently, ladling out ideas delayed,
I splashed myself with fresh drink. Relieving
A murky mind, I felt renewed and rife.
And thus of nothingness was something made.
Love’s the elixir that banishes grief,
an infant sucking on his mother’s breast,
two childhood friends lost in banter and jest,
an ambedo trace granting soul relief.
Joy is soul’s diamond but ego’s the thief,
employing thought spirals that do not rest,
taking control by invading heart’s nest,
yet when touched by love, we turn a new leaf.
Octaves of love, the hues of a rainbow,
colours distinct, yet remaining entwined,
one with the universe, a seamless whole,
where boundaries blur when we bend down low,
lotus in full bloom, with bliss beats aligned,
music of the spheres and song of our soul.
There was a fiddler. How he loved to play!
He had two sons. In wooden shoes they’d clog
while he would fiddle, and his little dog
would prance with them! They didn’t always stay
inside their little shack, for sometimes they
would go out to the porch. There was a frog
who’d come to visit them and all agog,
that frog would watch the merry group all day.
The frog was fond of music, so he’d croak
the fiddler’s tune in singing froggy style.
The fiddler and his sons would laugh and joke
to hear the frog sing for them all the while.
The hopping frog danced with the dog and folk.
“By gosh,” they said, “that frog’s sure versatile!”
Jan. 23, 2023
for The Fiddler And The Frog Poetry Contest of Craig Cornish
For Brian Strand's Contest begun Feb. 12,2023
Engulfed in recollections bittersweet
Reminded just how lonely life can be
How sad the fact that mem'ries are not free
From train of thought pass shadows in the street
Within the strains feelings become up beat
Piece shiny shards of broken memories
So many good times on life's open seas
Our failures and our follies were so fleet
My song of life has many different notes
In languishing refrains I find a smile
Revisiting sweet scenes of happiness
The lump I swallow nearly makes me choke
Replace the bitter aftertaste of bile
Each candy memory a Hershey's kiss
an original poem by Daniel Turner
Music fills the air, as the radio plays
Letting go of memories, bringing back forgotten faces
Daddy took that photograph...a captured you, a smiling trace
A magic moment....a magic day...
You gave me your cameo, that birthday in May...
There was joy in your face, while I posed dressed in lace...
Oh, yes.... here is that dress! let me carefully place
Upon the bedspread....Mom,...are you watching today?....
The dress,.. still so lovely, ....we picked it together...
A bow in the back...and embroidery on the hem...
A sweetheart neckline, and a small rose on the breast..
The color of a pale sky...soft as a feather...
I wore this cameo.....now I wear it again....
As I fold this sweet memory,....back in the chest....
for Constance's contest "Italian Sonnet"