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,
......
A Red, Red Rose
by Robert Burns
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
......
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 106: When In The Chronicle Of Wasted Time
by William Shakespeare
When in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have expressed
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
......
Sonnet Xviii: Shall I Compare Thee To A Summer's Day?
by William Shakespeare
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
......
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.
......
