Nature Italian Sonnet Poems

Living in my little world
That cannot be illustrated by word
I didn't choose myself neither did you
Who should be blamed my parents or who

At sunrise I...

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Farther down the glade beyond Myrtle Creek
Where, as a kid, I went hunting for raspberries,
We discovered a ripening patch of blackberries
Grandmother and I went there...

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MICHELANGELO: Modern English Translations

Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564) is considered by many experts to be the greatest artist and sculptor of all time. These are modern English...

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Through the set screen of a cower cover
A tyrant terror of the self resides; 
Forming a merged mind with opposing sides. 
Persuasion being his asset...

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I waited my whole life to find my man
I thought it would never be however
It happened one day like any other
Freaks of nature without a...

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I’ve gone outside to sit nearby my tree,
which bloomed this April, and on the first day!
With pen in hand (the good old-fashioned way)
I pause –...

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Springtime, camped between the mountain valleys.
Air filled with tickled laughter ventured through
canopy of leaves bathed a golden hue; 
labyrinth fields sun's freedom to rally.
An owl...

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Rain rushed in like a concert audience.
There’s nothing calm about Spring’s arrival.
The specter gusts regrets and survival,
Strip limbs for whips — a sore obedience.

A path...

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It’s early spring, and tulips are in bloom;
as folks come out and shed their winter wrap;
the season comes alive from nature’s nap,
and warms the air,...

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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...

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When warmth of springtime slackens winter's glare
and earth from bitter bonds is free to breathe
infusions of fresh colors boldly weave
through nature's living canvas, wild affair.
As...

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A pewter mirror cracks in veins of jade,
ensconced I've been in winter's house of drear.
Aback I'm taken, palpable my fear
to see my likeness in such...

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I know it's there somewhere beyond the clouds,
beyond the snow which gently floats and falls
on arborvitae's shoulders like a shawl
and o're the face of summer...

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Will nature survive pollution?
There is every chance that it will,	
thinking, will it, makes me feel ill!
Humans do have the solution,
and should make the resolution,
Now, no...

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I write all my poetry by the rules!
All verse have rules, for some sort of reason?
Although bending them will not be treason!
Even so, some poets...

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