Here is a list of Last Commented Sonnet Poems written by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
Mother Nature is unsettled. Is the world in disbelief ?
My own challenge entry.
An Irish invitation to an English lady. I know from your posts dear that you yearn to get away for a while.... So just for the craic come over to visit your auld poet buddy and I'll help you trace your Irish ancestry. Don't mind the poem dear, that's just the type of romantic Irish clown I can be. You'd be very safe with Mick.
Something I did write for someone really special, some years back.
One I write a while back, when the heart was dancing.
improvement can't like you
This sonnet is written as a sublime portals of slightly warmer runoff water enters a slowly swollen stream just beginning to rise with the coming of the first warm rains of spring over a land still frozen in winter time.
This poem is about me and my girlfriend and the weekends we have together
To Lewis Carroll
Love can be such a gentle beauty.
I picked up the phone Many times tonight Waiting for your messages about a life you had before The ghosts of love waiting at my door My heart, It feels anticipation my soul, it aches apprehensive in mind As the ghosts of love Knock once
A fresh spring 'sonnet' about a brave little robin building her nest on my hanging ladder and taking away some of my busy chores; while I just sit back and enjoy watching a little nature outdoors.
Fond memories...
My favourite poem by John Donne I WONDER by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved ? were we not wean'd till then ? But suck'd on country pleasures, childishly ? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den ? 'Twas so ; but this, all pl
dedicated to women, particularly those who are facing gender inequality in the workplace and society in general
A Sonnet dedicated to my two life-long friends.
Being with your lady s the bright sunset flares, beautiful feelings.
A Cosmic challenge Paloma. Hope you like it !
metaphor for truth,,,,, (originally posted in 2012)
This is written in memory of Christina.... ( Pseudonym Odette67), a C/S Poetess who graced this corner for years with special poetry and honest critique. She lived in the beautiful Lake District in Cumbria, England and passed away earlier this year. Her favourite poetry form was a Sonnet so this one is for you Dear Christina. Sleep soundly with the Angels..we'll see you on the other side. Mick.x
Time is one of my most Treasured Assets; so this is an interesting Sonnet that sums it up for me....
In the earlier sonnets, the poet's main concern was to persuade the youth to marry and reproduce his beauty in the creation of a child. That purpose changes here in Sonnet 17, in which the poet fears that his praise will be remembered merely as a "poet's rage" that falsely gave the youth more beauty than the youth actually possessed, thus expressing an insecurity about his poetic creations that began in the preceding sonnet. This disparaging tone concerning the sonnets is most evident in line 3, in which the poet characterizes his poetry as a "tomb." Such death imagery is appropriate given the frequent incorporation of time, death, and decay images throughout the first seventeen sonnets. Ironically, the poet, who has been so concerned about the young man's leaving behind a legacy at death to remind others of his priceless beauty, is now worried about his own future reputation. Will his poems be ridiculed by readers who disbelieve the poet's laudatory praise of the young man's beauty? Not, says the poet, if the youth has a child by which people can then compare the poet's descriptions of the youth's beauty to the beauty of the youth's child — now asking the youth to have a child in order to confirm the poet's worthiness. The sonnet's concluding couplet links s*xual procreation and versification as parallel activities: "But were some child of yours alive that time, / You should live twice — in it and in my rime." The poet's task is an endless struggle against time, whose destructive purpose can only be frustrated by the creation of fresh beauty or art, which holds life suspended.
Forever Young
Thanks Socrates for the challenge.
A Sonnet to my poetess buddy & muse.
Nature's Trinity iambic pentameter sonnet (ten syllables per line) (successive lines rhyme scheme)
Dedicated to those who experience a direct personal connection to Nature independent of any explanation. (Any attempt at explanation detracts from the immediate empirical quality of the experience which is the focus of this piece.)
The triumph of our spirit over life….. is love.
Just thought fluttering around in my head.
I looked across the empty barren field Where the land seemed to lay silent and still Remembering a time when it once yield Now everything seems destined to be killed I knocked on your door then let myself in Emptiness was found took my breath
Inspired by the girl of my dreams......on just another lonely night...searching for her....in my heart....
Is there really any good reason to hold back and not love another human being that makes any sense at all? :)
The sometimes strange colors of our winter skies are truly inspirational and beautiful.
Such is an emptiness now found in the New England woods this time of year. Visting the grave of my mother, this sonnet is very darkly reflective of my suffering a deep loss, followed by a timeless bitter mourning from a death so deeply personal. Perhaps only in our dreams can such sadness be balanced by the celebration of another happier time in life and also with the hope of her eternal love.
Reflections of life along the shores of a big freshwater lake, where many years in our youth were like seasons when all would meet together and party around a large bonfire until the end of each season such as when the darkness and ice of winter came.
I suppose this is about going along with the crowd and not stopping to question it.
We should listen to our dreams.
It's not about what's on the outside.
Men, what are they like?
Every week day at one p.m. the object of my heart’s desire hosts a news programme on the radio.
Such as the name suggests going on an epic journey
Nice work neighbour...
Liam you write such lovely beautiful Love POERTY. I know you have had bumps in the rode but you never once stoped writing you love poetry . Your a wonderful kind hearted man I'm honored to call you my friend . Much love...
Thank you very much Kathy, we are only here but a short time so I suggest one should choose to live and be happy...
well you certainly have been inspired I enjoyed your poem muchly...
Hi Celtic ....sounds like a very magical place you visit to relieve you of your burdens ....described so elegantly an painted so vividly ......awesome Regards Nu...
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