Crown Of Sonnets love poems and/or love poems about Crown Of Sonnets. Read, share, and enjoy these Crown Of Sonnets love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems or see our other Crown Of Sonnets Poems.
Around my mom, I always felt my guilt
My conscience seemed to always take her side
Some years ago, I gave her a new quilt
I still recall the tears of joy she cried
My gift of love to warm her nights with pride
It's hand sewn patches in a ring design
It showed up at my door after she died
Inside a plain brown box tied with used twine
And though there was no note, I read her mind
She knew the message sent would be received
A gift of love, to warm, when life's unkind
She once made quilts to give to those in need
Her gift of love with message plain to see
She knew the one in need, this time... was me.
by Daniel Turner
If only this poetry could define,
how your presence takes me towards cloud nine.
Your touch brings sensations that feel divine,
yet, my tongue is quiet, fighting this muse of mine.
Waiting for the moment our lips can greet,
your sweet voice takes control of my heartbeat.
I sigh hallelujah, as our eyes meet,
the taste of your mouth makes my life complete.
Suddenly the pen flows like buoyant streams,
describing love that's only seen in daydreams.
I'm just a star within universal schemes,
basking within the passion of your moonbeams.
Our love can't be hidden in a metaphor,
you're the poem my pen will always adore.
3 February 2019
appreciation, love, poetry,
Love's tend'rest touch, your gentle words reveal
Caress my soul. sweet poet, with your verse
Write dulcet lullabies which make me feel
Secure, like infants held at breast to nurse
Turn tears of sadness into peaceful streams
Make whispered breezes whisk my strife away
Put passion in my fantasized daydreams
Paint troubles in to flowery bouquets
And even though I know they're not for me
I steal your soothing love just like a thief
This load I carry lightens suddenly
Because my broken heart has found relief
Your words are like a song, please sing to me
Sweet poet, how I love your poetry
an original poem by Daniel Turner
emotions, lost love,
The hollow eyes of love are never gone
They keep within the waves of trembled tears
From days so poor when love was looked upon
And one where the deepest pain adheres
They give my eyes of love such sad refrain
To think that love would ever be so cruel
And find it was illusion self-contain
When love so grand became so minuscule
To hold love once in dreamer's mind I've flown
And found the point of rest its final breath
To know I will forever be alone
Cry now as then for its eternal death
I found a love to hold and saw it die
Inside depth of darkest pain, I ask why
Love neither gives or takes but from itself.
Be not wiled by fantasies of arrogance.
Take no more than is offered by yourself.
Leave nothing trapped in tortured irrelevance.
Seek not a barter for desires that sue your heart.
Worthiness is the only tender that comes due.
Suffer willingly the melody of pain it may impart.
Bleed joyfully from the wounds that will ensue.
As tree branches lift their hopes towards Heaven's door,
hands together reaching higher than alone will seek
heights that love's imagination most beautifully implores
that from a poets words unending ecstasy must speak.
Whatever you desire your life to be,
may loves reflection be all you see
funny, love, sad,
I've never kissed a pig with my eyes closed
Nor have I ever held a hand of time
However, there was once when I proposed
But that was back when I was in my prime
I still recall how much she loved to dance
She'd laugh at me and make my face turn red
She taught me all the secrets of romance
That love was what one did, not what one said
I search the shadows for her purple hue
I take her mem'ry everywhere I go
Its smile has it's own special shade of blue
Its taste so sweet no one could ever know
They tell me only time mends broken hearts
I wonder just how long before it starts.
by Daniel Turner
love, true love,
How does one measure love in scope or scale?
For if such ledger ever was designed
Then logic would over the heart prevail.
So in this way must love be ever blind.
If love be love it cannot count the cost
Or repossess what it in ransom pays.
Expecting such is love already lost
When worth decides whether or not it stays.
But if I must assign it some amount
Let time together be the cost we share
And by that measure, as for love's account,
Let us not leave a coin of it to spare.
I'll precious count each moment yet in store.
My love, I offer all to you and more.
A lone moth flits around my front porch light
as wind blows through my window, luring me
to step outside into black velvet’s night.
I search the sky, but no moon can I see.
It seems it’s disappeared, just like my love.
The moaning wind plays havoc with my hair
as that old bulb sways crazily above.
In solitude, I simply stand and stare
at that fool insect! How can it not know
the falseness of the light that it’s drawn to?
Fluorescent doom replaces moon’s sweet glow.
I know this well because in losing you
I lost love’s gleam; I lost my everything,
and still that silly moth is fluttering. . .
appreciation, how i feel, love,
Within her heart is where I wish to be
To dwell inside the garden of her soul
Where each soft heartbeat plays a symphony
And all around is beauty to behold
The sunshine of her love would keep me warm
My one desire, to take life's pain away
Consoling her when clouds of sadness form
Removing troubles of each stressful day
Should something cause her fragile heart to break
I'd gather up the pieces tenderly
With love I'd smooth the sharpness of heartache
Then put them back together carefully
Within her heart is where her beauty lies
Her love, the light that shines within her eyes
original poem by Daniel Turner
If only I could make my way to Paris
To search the boulevards and rainy rues
I'd look to find my lonely heart an heiress
An Irish lass vacationing her muse
We'd find a quiet cafe' on the Seine
Where we could sit and share a laugh or two
By candlelight we'd toast with French champagne
Pretend that we were on our honeymoon
But how could I convince her I'm the one
To make all of her fantasies come true
She knows there's more to life than having fun
In Paris hearts get easily confused
I'd get down on one knee under the stars
Give her the paper ring off my cigar
an original poem by Daniel Turner
first love, happy, memory,
Mementos in a box, from years gone by
Thought to have been disposed of long ago
A glance, when something purple caught my eye
A ribbon from someone I used to know
I gently gave a tug like way back when
It slipped from it's confines just like before
Then instantly relived it all again
And just like her, it leaves me wanting more
But even though it was so delicate
This ribbon in it's femininity
Tied in her hair it looked so elegant
Yet strong enough to bind her memory
This ribbon with it's strength beyond compare
Ties fifty years to my first love affair
By Daniel Turner
autumn, lost love,
Like violets were her eyes when first I spied
the lady with a sweet child’s face who peeked
at me from bushes that she stood beside,
alluring Lilah, beaming, apple-cheeked!
And so it was that more and more I found
myself among the lilacs in that place
where first we’d met, that I might hear the sound
of Lilah’s laugh and glimpse her angel’s face.
On fragrant garden paths we knew the thrill
of blossoming affection. Poetry
was time we spent! But when my love fell ill,
the autumn of our bliss was not to be. . .
I visit Lilah now where she’s at rest
nearby the lilac blooms she liked the best.
lonely, lost love,
I sit alone as evening claims the day,
with common crow my only confidant.
I watch the sun sink slowly in the bay
while musing life and love so nonchalant.
As night descends upon my humble soul,
my furtive feelings ponder kinship lost.
I’m missing precious love that makes me whole;
my dearest darling gone at such a cost.
And woe I say, why did she go away,
and leave my heavy heart in agony;
behind, my shallow spirit here to stay;
she cast our love away so damnably.
Alas, I rue thee, my ascetic life,
and long to lance my heart with wretched knife.
January 17, 2018
life, lost love, sad love,
On pensive planes of wraith-like existence,
Are stoic shadows feigning affection;
Crimson lips of withering consistence,
Have lost their craze for craving confection.
Tear-filling prisms tilling a rueing sphere,
Pathos prowling, pity's wild and roaming;
Reminisce wind-blown is tumbleweed drear,
Bathos like bramble bur clings in gloaming.
Tin foil hearts' echo sad droning down-beat,
Rose petal ballet two rust figurines;
Today's gray sleet does douse yesteryears' heat,
Apathy's ennui directing the scenes...
Love once aflare in fanfare marigold,
Lies now a wizened weed, dried and stone cold.
love, mystery, spiritual,
Divinity lives beyond description
Alone, a weary heart cries from its pain
Desire eager for its conscription
Might truth and love turn this way again?
Sweet mysteries, this life, in dreams of thee
Yield fantasy's passion I dare to share
Walk from this muse, I pray to live in me
Conceding this, my love, unto your care
On lifeless shadows, cast your glowing light
Bring a blessed presence to this peace I seek
Rest too this solemn shade, this endless night
With angelic verse, but you could only speak
For seeking dreams to dream from up above
I cast my will and fate to seek your love
Beautiful Mystery Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
absence, beautiful, lonely, longing, lost love, sad,
If moonbeams’ fickle shadow-plays collude
with tousled sheets to take the shape of you,
And silent sighing pillow-tops exude
your scent, how do I see the night-time through?
If longing breezes rat-tat on my glass,
Curled soft into the likeness of your hand,
And floorboards moan, as if to feel you pass,
How can I wake each day? How can I stand?
If crowds contrive to conjure up your face,
And, mesmerised by yearning, I collide
with echoes of your breath at every pace,
How can I walk? How can I step outside?
And yet, because you built this purgatory,
Its walls are strangely beautiful to me.
31 December 18
For Beautiful Sadness Contest
Hosted by John Hamilton
Besma Riabi Dziri
africa, beauty, happiness, home, pride, tribute,
I want to word my very Love for you
though as a shy child, I start to stammer
a beloved Mother, my sole bijou
as I am of your prime Land enamoured.
A rose breathing the scent of your terra
born and bred knowing no other home soil
how can I bear the burn of your Summer
anger and worry within my chest boil.
I want to paint my very pride in you
with drops of my blood and ivory star
then draw your nature and beauty anew
how would my poetry meet who you are?
To my dear mother, shall I, You compare?
TUNISIA, Your Love, I'll ever bear.
Along the feathered edge, a red sun-sets
To bind the evening in dreams eyes explore
Two hearts will greet, till' paradise begets
Love leaves impressions as waves swirl to shore
These caps of white will churn warmly the sand
The world will pass, the change of light is missed
Lonely eyes search for their yearning dreamland
When lips taste fire in a hungry kiss
As night arrives to shelter silhouettes
Soft is the sea to these two souls afar
In a twilight's pulse when the tide resets
And hands hold tight to await the Daystar
The fate of these lovers sealed in evermore
Tomorrow's memory from the seashore
I stand here by the lakeshore, and I smell
fresh honeysuckle as I kiss the rain.
A memory that I cannot curtail
wafts bitter sweetly to me, and again
it’s May. . . the night you came by the moon's light.
The air was permeated by perfume
from blossoms colored innocently white.
But now it’s summer; yellow is each bloom.
When plump upon the vines, sweet berries, red,
will be swooped up by birds - carried away.
I stoop to touch a stem. How soon has fled
my flowered youth, and now this day chilled grey,
I bow in downpour like the vines bent low
while raindrops - glistening with my own tears - flow.
appreciation, nature, summer,
What's not to love about a summer day?
Kissed by the sun, the warmth of its embrace
To feel the cleanse from sweat at work and play
While honeysuckle breezes cool my face
With hillsides blanketed in purple vetch
Magenta morning glories and light blues
Imagine all the butterflies they fetch
A scene to romance any poet's muse
But when it gets too hot, I seek the shade
Barefoot in clover 'neath tall sycamores
Or take a watermelon down to wade
A spring fed creek, to cool, while I explore
That evening, in the swing, I watch fireflies
Then pray I wake to see one more sunrise
May 9 - 2018
Above a cloud, in soundless, still tumescence,
a goddess rests; below her is the sea.
A strip of it is rippling luminescence,
a path of light in night’s serenity.
A solitary boat now passes through
the lane of radiance. One man regards
the sky and ocean, both a cobalt blue,
and ponders inspiration of the bards.
For what could man want more than such as this -
-the tranquilness of dark in Luna’s glow!
At times he longs to taste a woman’s kiss
though he embraced this life so long ago. . .
His gaze is fixed on her who shines above.
He chose the sea. . . and moon became his love.
Written September 18, 2010
analogy, joy, love,
Such lovely lilac and crimson tones,
As a rainbow of colours fill the sky,
Radiant and beautiful soothes my bones,
Takes me above the clouds so far and high.
Captured in a moment of total bliss,
Wondering all the time what is life for?
Suspended in awe like a lovers kiss,
Never felt like this to my very core.
Love all around and it's time I was found,
Beauty everywhere can't you see her smile,
Smiling at you and smiling all around,
It's time you gave love a chance for awhile.
But leave me above the clouds, here I'll stay,
I have found love in a different way.
(Ten syllables per line)
beauty, kiss, love,
A wordless song drifts from your eyes
with rhyme disguised in poems lost
from heavens smile your heart replies
assuming risk, no fear the cost
You dare not weep to dampen dreams
but pledge to take this hand of chance
no less from love this passion streams
in turn of fate not circumstance
Left breathless from a lovers kiss
this treasure found its place in time
a pleasure true, no more than this
not once rehearsed in pantomime
Within each heart pure beauty lives
When fancies flight is there to give
feelings, heartbroken, loss, sad, sad love,
Loss of more
Not only did I lose you, but more,
my life’s being to fulfil awareness,
in years to come with further to adore,
as reflections of your beauty’s fairness.
Like a quartet’s melodious accord,
wanting was the togetherness of four,
a dream to beseech love’s greatest reward;
continuation of life’s chain restore.
Ornaments of beauty to give life worth,
new flowers to blossom as future holds,
in the dreams of tenderness, love’s rebirth;
but alas once more the heartache unfolds.
For a brittle heart agony befall,
in an outcast state, loss of more than all.
For contest: JP Contest 5 FEELINGS
Sponsor: Jamie Pan
for her, innocence, integrity, love, rose, snow, trust,
I think I know the Name of Purity,
It is Your Name -- it holds clear water well!
A Chalice carved almost to shattering,
A white rose, that alone, grows in the dell
With drops of ice adorning its still face
The warmth of heart that comes with falling snow
The few flakes that adorn your lashes, by grace
Delightful cold that creeps up from below
Loquacity that speaks only the Truth,
Amazed by every small, delightful thing
Ubiquitous praise and unbroken Youth
Right Trust, that gave your finger to the Ring
Inevitable Joy, and whispered Love
E'er faithful, that this all is from Above.
Submitted for: Standard Poetry Contest 175
Sponsored by: Brian Strand