Here is The Sonnet Man’s fourth internet collection of his poems in sonnet form.
They are here to be read and thought about. Hopefully, too, enjoyed.
Some are controversial but certainly worth considering.
You may find unexpected treasure within, in the form of enjoyment, unique perspective and meaning.
So, Enjoy This Latest Edition Of Sonnets.
In short, the term "Sonnet" derives from the Italian word "Sonetto", meaning "little song".
A Sonnet, as in all these poems, is a specific structure of 14 lines, with 10 syllables a line, following a consistent rhyming pattern.
In these sonnets the end-of-line rhymes are abab cdcd efef gg.
Why don’t you try to construct one for yourself? Go on, have a go!
As with the sonnets on the earlier websites, you are welcome to use any of the sonnets on www.sonnetstolast.co.uk for your personal, non-commercial pleasure, as a gift from The Sonnet Man.
For a commercial use, though, please make contact explaining your proposed use, so that I may give my permission.
You can do this via the Contacts Page or Email - email@example.com
Any Sonnet used should be accredited to The Sonnet Man or the relevant Website title.
“Crack on, this is not a dress rehearsal”,
message with e-mail communications.
This the line, starting this verse, I recall.
Its meaning clear, without complications.
About getting on with life, here and now.
Living that’s for real, this present moment.
Indifference, not something to allow.
And, what it is that need to say, well meant.
“Crack”, of course, an Irish word for banter.
Having a jovial conversation.
Talking plenty, but no-one a ranter.
Not ‘stuck’ monologue, for irritation.
Thought contributions on the same matter.
Agreeing next step via the chatter.
Deep blue and lighter hue transparent glass.
Cracking up and clustering in pieces.
Breast shield to midriff, tight attire holds fast,
until loosens, then fall out increases.
Colourful crystal tumbles to the floor
and starts to spread over a large expanse.
Clearly will be unable to restore.
As I think this, some strike the ground and dance.
It means my chest has now become exposed.
My heart uncovered and unprotected.
Whilst the jewels from the broken plate glass grows,
my light breathing is barely detected.
Bring the beads together. Place in a mound.
Blue crystal pieces. Many to be found.
Do these poems contain my DNA?
My fingerprints will be on the paper,
although in short time they will fade away.
One of my genes, a poetry-maker?
what comprised of, based in the molecule.
Whether agitated or stay placid,
poetic skill there? Generational?
Some rhyming go with the double helix.
Vocabulary in the bag of tricks.
Content nearest to what I mean then sticks.
If difficulty, find a way to fix.
So, is this code for me in what I write?
Or is my mind and thought its own delight?
Sonnets to last. That is, to the last one.
Then, my thoughts or capability stilled.
Although may know, roughly, the total sum.
Anything more, from then on, unrevealed.
Sonnets to last. If only that were so.
That is, kept around for posterity.
At my end, there still be something to show.
I would want this to be my legacy.
Sonnets to last. There is no third meaning
Other than as a name; a website name.
Poems from their secret place, retrieving
and put to this title. Access obtain.
Most of mine, reflected like light through glass
Selected ones displayed. Sonnets to last.