Here is a list of Most 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.
Icicles
Dripping icicles grow outside windows
Trapped behind these ice spears creates my cage
Sun refusing to rise makes eiry shadows
Oh short these days and long these nights we age
Quiet the sound of falling snow is mute
Spared but a slight breeze whistle in the twig
Ol' Jack Frost plucking on his off tune lute
Delighted when his captives hear his gig
A starving bird huddles on chimney peak
With fluffy feathers struggles to stay warm
A berry dangles in its tiny beak
Softly thaws in labored breath changin' form
These coldest darkest days of midwinter
'waiting for these pendent spears to splinter
Trapped behind these ice spears creates my cage
Sun refusing to rise makes eiry shadows
Oh short these days and long these nights we age
Quiet the sound of falling snow is mute
Spared but a slight breeze whistle in the twig
Ol' Jack Frost plucking on his off tune lute
Delighted when his captives hear his gig
A starving bird huddles on chimney peak
With fluffy feathers struggles to stay warm
A berry dangles in its tiny beak
Softly thaws in labored breath changin' form
These coldest darkest days of midwinter
'waiting for these pendent spears to splinter
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2012
About this poem:
Reminiscing through frosty windows and dangling icicles such that sometimes I am feeling rather blue to be confined inside my house on many such stormy winter days.A Winters' Sunrise
In a frozen world that will never last
Those cupric blues and ferric yellow glass
An expanse of ice that is just too vast
A beautitful mosaic in nature's grasp
Such a savage wind will the sculptor show
Besides crack'd cedar fence posts in-a-row
Nature's deft display on fields of snow
As early sunrise casting shadows grow
Upside a tricklin' brook with ice so thin
No more purer water has ever been
Many fresh tracks leading back where from when
Back and forth from some softwood forest den
All around, 'who' knows most the secrets hid
Resting, a sage old owl whispers 'who' did
Those cupric blues and ferric yellow glass
An expanse of ice that is just too vast
A beautitful mosaic in nature's grasp
Such a savage wind will the sculptor show
Besides crack'd cedar fence posts in-a-row
Nature's deft display on fields of snow
As early sunrise casting shadows grow
Upside a tricklin' brook with ice so thin
No more purer water has ever been
Many fresh tracks leading back where from when
Back and forth from some softwood forest den
All around, 'who' knows most the secrets hid
Resting, a sage old owl whispers 'who' did
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2013
About this poem:
Out one early mid-winter morning I strolled across the scenes above, for truly silent becomes the night when a new day and a new year is being born. I'm making references when ice forms is has colors, usually blues and yellows, and the reason is that forms contains divalent atoms of copper(blue) and iron(yellow); thus considering the source of ground springs that will form ice cover over stones which I'm calling glass is actually ice. And the owl, oh well, he was just there watching everything and telling me what was going on. :)
Friends
are people you can trust
that are there for you
when you are in need
real friends don't judge
just hold out their hands
smile and cheer you up
shake their finger at you
when you are out of line
most of all its a form of love
that helps to uplift you
makes you feel strong
ready to meet the new day
someone's shoulder to lean on
also to cry out your heart
most of all a person who shares
each little loss or joy with you
friendship is giving
but also its receiving
that are there for you
when you are in need
real friends don't judge
just hold out their hands
smile and cheer you up
shake their finger at you
when you are out of line
most of all its a form of love
that helps to uplift you
makes you feel strong
ready to meet the new day
someone's shoulder to lean on
also to cry out your heart
most of all a person who shares
each little loss or joy with you
friendship is giving
but also its receiving
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
you can never have too many real friendsMy Busy Ladder
Of all the good places this busy spring
Hiding near the eaves of the old woodshed
The quiet little robin that won’t sing
Builds a nest where my ladder hangs instead
There really is no shortage of trees
Whose outstretched limbs in all directions strewn
Yet with my ladder she does what she pleases
At least a couple months of May and June
Now that small job on the roof to repair
Nor those dead limbs dangling just out of reach
None of these chores I’m waiting to take care
Could persuade me a nest disturb or breach
Sometimes we need to be patient and wait
And delight as much in nature so great
Hiding near the eaves of the old woodshed
The quiet little robin that won’t sing
Builds a nest where my ladder hangs instead
There really is no shortage of trees
Whose outstretched limbs in all directions strewn
Yet with my ladder she does what she pleases
At least a couple months of May and June
Now that small job on the roof to repair
Nor those dead limbs dangling just out of reach
None of these chores I’m waiting to take care
Could persuade me a nest disturb or breach
Sometimes we need to be patient and wait
And delight as much in nature so great
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2022
About this poem:
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.
online today!Connection to Nature
I am connected to Nature
And Nature is connected to me
From the tiniest insect
To the largest tree
From creatures in the deepest ocean
To those on top the highest mountain
From the tiniest ant
To the largest elephant
The tree takes in what I exhale
And returns to me what I inhale
I consume as food, plant life from the earth
After I die, on my remains they will feed
I am connected to Nature
And Nature is connected to me
And Nature is connected to me
From the tiniest insect
To the largest tree
From creatures in the deepest ocean
To those on top the highest mountain
From the tiniest ant
To the largest elephant
The tree takes in what I exhale
And returns to me what I inhale
I consume as food, plant life from the earth
After I die, on my remains they will feed
I am connected to Nature
And Nature is connected to me
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2019
About this poem:
Dedicated to those who experience a direct personal connectionto 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.)
A Beauteous Sight
Through the night I do see your reflection,
in the pool made by love's tears that you cry,
in my heart, they would have their collection,
when they were gone, your heart would surely fly.
Take my dark hand and walk into starlight,
with your dark man make all your dreams to bloom,
stars in your hair, an ethereal light,
you shine so bright, within Heaven's vaulted room.
Passions, desires, they shall flow in delight,
love fills the heart and gone is strife and care,
you shall ever shine in sun or moonlight,
a star in life, your beauty you shall share.
In my vision, such a beauteous sight,
you, my angel, light up my every night.
in the pool made by love's tears that you cry,
in my heart, they would have their collection,
when they were gone, your heart would surely fly.
Take my dark hand and walk into starlight,
with your dark man make all your dreams to bloom,
stars in your hair, an ethereal light,
you shine so bright, within Heaven's vaulted room.
Passions, desires, they shall flow in delight,
love fills the heart and gone is strife and care,
you shall ever shine in sun or moonlight,
a star in life, your beauty you shall share.
In my vision, such a beauteous sight,
you, my angel, light up my every night.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2023
About this poem:
Something I did write for someone really special, some years back.
When we were young
I remember the lane with loving footsteps worn,
that fragrant filled each sprung dawn,
serves to underwrite my life with bliss,
to relive the joy of loves first kiss,
remains the dawn of life that never pales,
to fill this later day with soft scented tales,
recording love in beauty's soft repose,
with depth, far deeper than the ocean knows,
that soothes the pathway of my sleep,
an exclusive world, my cherished keep,
a whitened world where poets dare,
charge their ink with sonnets fair,
endorsing love, like as the ivy clings,
leaves me richer far than Kings.
that fragrant filled each sprung dawn,
serves to underwrite my life with bliss,
to relive the joy of loves first kiss,
remains the dawn of life that never pales,
to fill this later day with soft scented tales,
recording love in beauty's soft repose,
with depth, far deeper than the ocean knows,
that soothes the pathway of my sleep,
an exclusive world, my cherished keep,
a whitened world where poets dare,
charge their ink with sonnets fair,
endorsing love, like as the ivy clings,
leaves me richer far than Kings.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
When we strolled in later years our lovers Lane, the magic of our spring had not diminished and remains fragrant filled with memoriessonnet
Yon lofty hills, dear lingering youth,
when we climbed life's sisyphean slope
amid tumbling rocks, yet struggled on in hope,
now, backward glance, on labours oft uncouth,
each blind day, we, green faith applied
upon the anvil of life's harsh forged sway,
each and every aching limb, relentlessly applied
the burning coals, to fire destinies unspoken play,
to climb the summits unattainable spoils,
those salad days inspired by trackless spheres aloft,
passion filled, like as when, both lover and artist toils,
flew on wings when life was green and soft,
despite the woes and destiny our constant foe,
we've sallied forth to Autumn's coloured glow.
when we climbed life's sisyphean slope
amid tumbling rocks, yet struggled on in hope,
now, backward glance, on labours oft uncouth,
each blind day, we, green faith applied
upon the anvil of life's harsh forged sway,
each and every aching limb, relentlessly applied
the burning coals, to fire destinies unspoken play,
to climb the summits unattainable spoils,
those salad days inspired by trackless spheres aloft,
passion filled, like as when, both lover and artist toils,
flew on wings when life was green and soft,
despite the woes and destiny our constant foe,
we've sallied forth to Autumn's coloured glow.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
A rearward glance to the green fields of youth and the joy of these latter days of colour;Spring Meadows
At last the winters' cold spell be broken
Lest soften the foggy freeze in your grip
Givin' rise to springs and streams awoken
Castin' loose ice clingin' on rocks to slip
Return the smells of sweet earth when anew
Once molded decayed old leaves start rottin'
Burstin' fresh in new greens and shining dew
Boney limbs a forest nigh forgotten
For pure is the spring as the newborn lambs
Stand on spindly legs that freshen life brings
Melt back down riverbanks flooded ice jams
Gurgles currents fast around its bend sings
So softly now is the grass turnin' green
Wave fresh across the sunlit meadows clean
Lest soften the foggy freeze in your grip
Givin' rise to springs and streams awoken
Castin' loose ice clingin' on rocks to slip
Return the smells of sweet earth when anew
Once molded decayed old leaves start rottin'
Burstin' fresh in new greens and shining dew
Boney limbs a forest nigh forgotten
For pure is the spring as the newborn lambs
Stand on spindly legs that freshen life brings
Melt back down riverbanks flooded ice jams
Gurgles currents fast around its bend sings
So softly now is the grass turnin' green
Wave fresh across the sunlit meadows clean
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2013
About this poem:
Maybe getting a little ahead of myself as I long for end of winter that the growing, glowing, warming sun will bring.
The Jury (Part 2)
They had prayed for a change to all their gods
Side by side they waited good holding bad
Not knowing which God would answer their cries
Not treasuring what they already had
A contradiction of one another
They had called back an abomination
A power so strong without no end
Essence without permanent foundation
Good verse evil within one entity
Each knowing but willing to take the chance
Releasing twilight upon barren days
Where evil and good will soon bare romance
Mere mortals holding only to release
The beginning of their Armageddon
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
Side by side they waited good holding bad
Not knowing which God would answer their cries
Not treasuring what they already had
A contradiction of one another
They had called back an abomination
A power so strong without no end
Essence without permanent foundation
Good verse evil within one entity
Each knowing but willing to take the chance
Releasing twilight upon barren days
Where evil and good will soon bare romance
Mere mortals holding only to release
The beginning of their Armageddon
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jun 2013
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