Voyage Sonnet Poems | Examples
These Voyage Sonnet poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Voyage. These are the best examples of Sonnet Voyage poems written by international poets.
An angel sent to visit us on Earth,
The realm of bliss to this of grinding woe;
What must she think to dwell in love's sad dearth?
But angels need not think, for all they know.
Perhaps she knows the meaning of it all,
And softly beats her wings to sooth our cries;
Perhaps she knows that mortal crises fall,
And all shall seem but little when one dies.
But we, who cannot know, and sadly think,
May feel a great divinity beyond;
And wonder why it is that we must sink,
And why it is that dirt must be our bond.
There is, perhaps, a better world above,
But even here, we can a little love.
We slip into the cradle of night's arms,
Beyond our weary, wakeful selves, we go.
Where hopes take flight untouched by worldly harms,
And whispered wants, like drifting petals, flow.
Beneath a veil of stars and moonlit beams,
We cross to foreign lands of our design,
A portal to a world beyond our dreams,
Where truths and aspirations intertwine.
And when we wake to walk through daylight's door,
The secrets of the stars, we're meant to keep.
Unfiltered are the thoughts our dreams explore;
For minds cannot be closed when they're asleep.
May we be armed with wisdom of the night,
And dare to seek a world beyond our sight.
Alan was at a baseball park and caught
Andy's fastball, playing catch. Unable
to call his pal Sam tapping a bottle
cola. 'Twas faraway, at last Sam, got
aware of Alan, bad reason, and bought
Alan a cola. Autumn, leaves falling,
all ages are happy--all things pleasing.
An apt man arranged a lady he brought
on a boat placed on a lake for rowing
as Lady Ann and yachtsman Aaron plan
marriage. June a fact, January fast,
seasonal feast pleasantries ball dancing,
able seaman, Aaron, he's a Captain.
Anchors aweigh bon voyage that will last.
Afternoon ember flare coddles forest
Nodule noses, from dark bark eyes sap drips
Naked soldiers, Summer’s subside promised
Farewell foliage, spun fairy floss gossip
News spew swept red runaway train carriage
Ridiculed witches watch fireworks astral
Rudimentary broom aircrafts encourage
Twilight wake creatures creep from log capsules
Twitching whiskers, dusk susurrate translate
Trampled damp mushrooms mulch to mildew fleece
Orange fungi full moon balloon inflate
Hot flight flame exhales exhausting release
Grey limb wind tortured troops groan, familiar
Guards gravely wait for Winter’s insignia
31st August
Written for Contest:
Whispers of Autumn
Sponsor: John Lawless
In smoke and flames of mighty Apollo
T-minus fifteen seconds, engines on!
O’ ship of divine distance I saw go
when rocketeers on lunar ascent shone.
New Age Columbus kings voyage and realm
in your Saturn V rocket to the moon -
new worlds beyond and Earth men at the helm
when supersonic roared its sonic boom.
I saw the face of Jupiter and Mars,
saw a golden eagle fly through deep space
and saw Prometheus reach for the stars
with flag and footprint of the human race.
Saw you fall to Earth out that Milky Way
on re-entry splashdown on the eighth day.
Written: May 1992
Starting from the void, my voyage has been adventurous.
Who am I, yet, without the fleck of the Param Atma?
With the image of God, existence has been virtuous.
This vessel of my body bears the spirit of Allah.
I am a fountain of flow. I am a river in flux.
I am a lake with whirlpools. I am an ocean with waves.
In my movements as a lonely star, God has been my crux.
There are, in my core shrine, marvelous, mysterious caves.
When the body is not mine, when the spirit is not mine
I say I'm. I exist. Am I not, yet, a car on rent?
When the spirit travels within me, everything is fine.
In each twist and turn, in this spirit, I find my vent.
Is my identity delusional, like a mirage?
Does this self imply too my physique-psyche camouflage?
Does, like birds and beasts, gratifying daily needs suffice?
What's more? What should I aim at? Like a sage, where should I go?
The things and beings I see here are, no doubt, nice and wise.
Has a breeze or storm yet a single direction to blow?
Gaining true liberation and eternal salvation
Moving from all that is the world's ignorance to wisdom
Deserts of desires and delusions with dedication
Should be audaciously opposed, withstood, and overcome.
To that heaven of freedom and happiness, I should go
Should encounter the almighty, the angels, and the saints
Should I stay there forever or come back? I do not know.
Won't, yet, one be away from temporal mundane constraints?
As glories of the sun and moon, enlightenment I'll gain
To this end, I'll face any physical or psychic pain.
Water filled each cleft and crevice; unease within you grew.
Though physically brave, I couldn't withstand the strong wave.
I felt, yet, in the end, contentment with saving a few
No lifebuoys left; am I pushed to the brink of my grave?
This sea, though I'm within her waves now, isn't my stranger.
Hadn't I spent my mammoth life on her thrill-bubbling shores?
Won't she, at these troubled times, save me from every danger?
Though once she smashed my sand forts, will she wreck my heart's cores?
Isn't my death, yet, shifting from one shore to another?
Isn't plunging into the whirlpools part of this process?
Though those whose hands I held to save their own lives don't bother
Towards a valorous voyage, may my sound soul progress.
Farewell, O Titanic; you'd been sheltering me for long.
Leave me now; that I reach the divine shrines where I belong.
A crisp calm early morning, a sunny clear spring day
Into old beech wood clearing, ocean sailing underway
Lines of rolling waves where tree trunk shadows fall
A sea of nodding bluebells, a distant port of call
Senses overflowing a sweet scent fills the air
Rainforest birdsong chorus a harmonious fanfare
Swollen buds full of promise in the canopy abound
Feathered emerald leaves unfurling to a choral sound
Verdant clouds casting, dappled shade on to the ground
Navigating rural landscape, voyage homeward-bound
Old sailor sighting landfall a beach of golden sand
A field of mustard painted by artistic farmers hand
A glimpse through to horizon a tropical island view
Vibrant Caribbean colours of yellow, green and blue
Parnholt Wood, 25th April 2023
Life, what exactly are you? They ponder.
You're a warren of baffling turns.
Why so dreadful and oblique? They wonder.
With uncertainty and doubt as you churn.
A dark, cold cell where the sun doesn't shine.
Storms that bring torment with each of their strikes.
A poison stricken field, indeed malign.
Nigh eternal suffering, that's life.
But it's not, for life is short and precious.
The clock ticks too fast to live in the past.
The world is beautiful and it's gracious.
For the rivers of bliss and joy are vast.
Life, an intricate, enchanted voyage,
Where you must embark, the path most joyous.
BREEDS OF LATE LEGENDS
The soul of Bob Marley -
Tap it from the Caribbean reggae.
The ambition of Tupac Shakur -
Immortalize a generational legacy.
The mind of Malcom X -
A monument for all world's activists.
The dream of Martin Luther King -
Still holds the world's ear ransom.
The heroics of Nelson Mandela -
Voyage from apartheid to multiracial democracy.
The greatness of Muhammad Ali -
"Floats like a butterfly & Sting like a bee".
The world need not these monstrous men mountains
But most needing of a breed of our late legends.
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright©November2022.
Hundred million K' away neighbour, Mars
Hovers bolognese smeared brother, ice brick
Fondness for possibles although bizarre
Intoxicate screw loose hair brained psychic
Frog skin glint silk soak, last page of atlas
Frigid rift in regolith terracotta
Ancient alien sustaining chalice
Embalms escargot creatures exotic
Savant submerged in claiming lake, limbs grey
Gnawed on by hordes of sword fish ravenous
Haunting waters, explorer credere
Stores files in his spongy tissue camera
Angora cotton ball goats, horns antennas
Munch dust, dull marbles watch earth untether
Still the twentieth of October
Extra terrestrial Thursday
On third voyage five centuries ago
sailed the Spanish Main a Queen’s fleet south-west,
and the age of discovery’s great glow
shone upon caravels in ocean quest.
Into island passage beyond gulf trail
through Boca del Dragon on landing wave
led the Genoan’s flagship under sail -
safe travelled and spared a jagged reef’s grave.
“Behold far Indies, land of sun and realm -
by crown and Royal Warrant I claim thee!”.
That virgin New World, that far crossing helm,
these possession Isles of the Trinity.
In a mariner’s tale there’s one true love -
sea and tide below and the stars above.
Written: December 1995
What ere were warm, inviting open doors,
To this man maudlin and defeated kind,
Unsure, frightened, his dog-tail tucked behind,
He now finds shut, keys lost at far off shores.
Asked of voyage, on adverse winds he whines,
Given a choice from a pair of evils,
He chooses both— he who to doubt inclines,
One sure can’t go wrong with his choice of ills.
Here’s him— lion’s gait with vigour and vim,
He minds no doors getting shut on his face
And looks a sure shot like a tennis ace,
Belief in him bouncing like rising cream,
All odds-against ciphered, game on a deuce,
And a shot that turns all don’ts unto dos!
_____________________________________________
Poet’s note: “To a pessimist, his opportunities look like difficulties.
To an optimist, the difficulties are like opportunities.”
I think it was Harry Truman who said this.
This Sonnet takes off from what he said.
Sonnets | 10.09.2012, revised April 2022 |
Their rustling becomes forgot part of past;
No pleasant environment can everlast,
Days of fall for reason their shade o'ercast,
So, we can clearly observe the contrast.
Nature has innate desire for rebirth;
No creature is nominated for mirth;
Everything, for measured time, has it's worth;
All is destined to be a part of earth.
These leaves had just a nine months duration,
Each feather has time for aviation.
Rose, at last, loses it's beauty; scatters
Old mountain can't withstand time and clatters
Snowy glacier though firm, at last shatters
Everything is void, just nothing matters
April 03, 2022