Sonnet Poems
Sonnet 20: A Woman's Face With Nature's Own Hand Painted
by William Shakespeare
A woman's face with Nature's own hand painted
Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;
A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted
With shifting change, as is false women's fashion;
An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,
Gilding the object whereupon it gazeth;
A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,
Which steals men's eyes and women's souls amazeth.
And for a woman wert thou first created,
Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,
......
London, 1802
by William Wordsworth
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour;
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart;
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea:
......
Jerusalem
by William Blake
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills?
......
Ozymandias
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: 'Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear --
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
......
Sonnet 75
by Edmund Spenser
One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Agayne I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tyde, and made my paynes his pray.
"Vayne man," sayd she, "that doest in vaine assay.
A mortall thing so to immortalize,
For I my selve shall lyke to this decay,
and eek my name bee wyped out lykewize."
"Not so," quod I, "let baser things devize,
To dy in dust, but you shall live by fame:
......
Lost : Sonnet
by Ghairo Daniels
Lost in echoes of darkened time
dampened, dithering, dazed
wet withered witches mime a dime
fearful, I’m mazed or crazed
Calling Divinity, voicebox shut
eyelids glued, nostrils stuffed
lips zipped with copper thread
eardrums worrisome waned
......
Passion and Roses
by Joe Cyr
( Shakespearean sonnet )
Pale rosebuds heighten youthful innocence,
while roses mauve fuel fancied ardor fire,
denying unversed youth wise abstinence,
whereas pink roses spark True Love’s desire.
Moss roses signify wild possessing,
and lust that cannot yield sweet Charity.
Such ardor, thus, is but backward blessing
......
On a Dream, Cinco de Mayo
by Joe Cyr
(Italian sonnet)
The sun arched high and hot in tropic reach,
missing the narrow alley in shadowed brown.
Weary flats, replete with drab and run-down,
present their dingy windows to the breach
while slouching gloomily atop rows of shops.
Below, broken-wheeled carts stand abuzz with flies.
By one constricted sidewalk, curbstones lie,
offering rotted fruit and leafy slops.
......
A Sonnet of The Eternal Beloved
by Ayatullah Nurjati
O Eternal, beyond the grasp of flesh and time
In silent nights, where stars softly weep
My soul wanders, yearning to taste the divine in time
I search for You in depths still and deep
What am I but dust, mere clay and bone
O Beloved, pure as the morning’s breath
While You are the Unseen, seated on Your throne
Draw me near, release me from death
......
Breaking News (sonnet)
by Kirsten Moreton
Note: I have not even read over this yet, I wrote it quickly and just wanted to share. For context, Flamingo land nearly got planning permission to build a resort on Loch Lomond in Scotland. Loch Lomond is a huge part of Scotland's culture and we are a country proud of our scenery and natural environment and this caused outrage. The Poem is about this!
‘What kind of a place is a loch for flamingos?
Pink exotic birds in Stirling, no one would believe such a thing.’
No grannie, these are made of steel and faux.
They don't have a heart just mechanical parts not even a feather or a wing.
......
