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,
......
Sonnet Xvii
by Pablo Neruda
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
......
Sonnet Xi
by Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
......
A Sonnet 10: Do Not Ever Blame Me
by Ayatullah Nurjati
Why do you keep blaming me?
Indeed my hobby is indeed unusual for most men, but it can relieve my emotions because of you
When there is something you feel strange. Must you blame me?
Do you really want to scold me?
I ever rarely blame you if you do wrong
I feel bad when I do it to you because and it will make your heart ache Even though I'm right, what I'm doing is still wrong. What's more, one looks even more wrong
I have to how to express this to you it becomes headache
As a man who supports you, it's not uncommon for me to do anything to fulfil all the needs of the three of us
......
A Sonnet of 34: The Soul Beneath the Stars
by Ayatullah Nurjati
Beneath the stars, my soul begins to weep,
For beauty’s light doth pierce this fragile clay;
In silence deep, my heart its vigil keep,
Awaiting dawn to kiss the dark away.
O night, thou keeper of my secret prayer,
Unveil the truth that hides in mortal shade;
I seek the realm where love is pure and rare,
Where time itself by faith is gently swayed.
......
Sonnet 35: The Mirror of Existence
by Ayatullah Nurjati
Sonnet 35: The Mirror of Existence
The muezzin’s call across the rice-fields flies,
A silver needle on a cloth of green.
It stitches dawn to what has always been,
A truth reflected in the earth and skies.
The mountain stands with patience,calm and wise,
The river chants the Names,a flowing scene.
In every atom,evidence unseen
......
A Sonnet of 35: When Silence Spoke of You
by Ayatullah Nurjati
When silence spoke, it called thy tender name,
And in that hush, my heart began to bloom;
Thy shadow danced upon the candle’s flame,
And turned the lonesome night to sweet perfume.
The moon grew pale beneath thy subtle gaze,
As though it feared thy beauty’s quiet might;
I lost my self within that mystic maze,
Where soul meets soul beyond both dark and light.
......
A Sonnet of 34: The Soul Beneath the Stars
by Ayatullah Nurjati
Beneath the stars, my soul begins to weep,
For beauty’s light doth pierce this fragile clay;
In silence deep, my heart its vigil keep,
Awaiting dawn to kiss the dark away.
O night, thou keeper of my secret prayer,
Unveil the truth that hides in mortal shade;
I seek the realm where love is pure and rare,
Where time itself by faith is gently swayed.
......
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
......
