Tag Archives: sonnet

Soldier’s Homecoming -Sonnet

I wrote this sonnet for my best friend as we were visiting our boyfriends on an army base in (basically) the middle of nowhere. We were stranded for an extra day as weather made it dangerous to drive; she was sad and didn’t want to leave. I, on the other hand, was about to go insane because I had no WiFi or cell reception. So naturally, I ended up doing Shakespeare homework.

This sonnet is inspired by the theme of war explored in Troilus and Cressida. I tried to put myself in the position of the wives and mothers who had to send their husbands and sons to battle. All they could do was wait for the day when the men would come home. Although I haven’t experienced this first hand, I cannot imagine the pain and worry that goes through the minds of those with loved ones currently in battle overseas.

I also apologize for my sorry attempt at writing in iambic pentameter. I tried. 🙂


My love, duty-bound to serve your country;

Rugged and fearless, yet gentle and sweet.

My brave knight in green, marching forward humbly;

It is danger and war you willingly greet.

Not wound nor death may break your composure.

An honorable man you are, a hero of peace;

You are my hero, my knight, my soldier.

Yet I want nothing more than the war to cease.

I patiently wait for the day you come home

As I spend night after night in bed all alone.

I dream of the barren and bloody fields you roam;

When news of battle arrives, I fear the unknown.

I long to have you in my arms again;

This love for my soldier, words cannot explain.

Sonnet: Tales from Calgary Transit

The grass has sprung, the air is light

Beneath the shelter we all sit

The bus is late; we huddle tight

While many cigarettes are lit.


Safe from the smoke, in my own seat,

I’m made aware of one man’s plight;

His voice, crude like an ape, doth bleat

As his own words provoke a fight:


”Where is this bus?” he yells aloud,

while startled others glance about.

For his impatience, he is proud:

he stands up, now, to curse the route.


I count the minutes as they pass,

But this man surely will not stop.

He paints himself to be an ass!

Oh, why cannot my seat be swapped?


And suddenly, his accent slows, as he draws breath, his own eyes wide;

He says, “I’m at the wrong stop, folks,” as from collective glares he hides.

My iPad isn’t good at writing sonnets.

You know how the keyboard on Apple products suggest what they “think” you want to write next? I used that system to write a sonnet. My iPad obviously doesn’t understand the English language.

The fact that the government has been in
Is that the company said it was not
(Off to a good start!)
But I think it’s time for the first time since
I love the new update to iOS
So many people are just so much fun
And you can be found on a Saturday
Because of the best of luck with your life
We need a break from school to be a queen
Many of the year before that is not
Can we have to be able to see my
I don’t have the right thing to do with it
The only way to get a follow back
Society is the only one of
Us to be able to see my tweets are
-Kristin Larsen

Reading Week: The Sonnet

To study texts in solitude,

births tears anew in morning’s wake.

Since work doth not improve my mood,

I think I’d rather eat this cake.


To check my grades on d2L

would surely break my spirit strong.

My sober clicks land me in hell;

my study habits have been wrong.


And so, I promise to myself

My time shall not be turn’d to waste.

My head, it slams against against my shelf

I scold myself: “I must make haste!”


Though, three more tranquil days of freedom do, somewhat, console me;

for my green-eyed friends, but two remain—I’m smirking at their jealousy.

A Sonnet About My Pets

I had some spare time.


My corn snake is pink with reddish eyeballs.

She slithers around on her long belly.

The fam’ly bird is loud and often calls.

Her body is blue, her name is Jelly.


My robo hamster died, her name was Chell.

She had long whiskers and black, beady eyes.

Scooter, the sickly mouse, did die as well.

Beneath the purple lilac bush he lies.


Fluffball, our cat, lives with grandmother now.

He used to pee on our good furniture.

Our minnow, Christine, lived for eight years. How?

I don’t know. Nothing rhymes with furniture.


I won’t go on, or I would be remiss;

I forgot where I was going with this.


Kristin Larsen

Sonnet I

Following is my very own sonnet, based on the Shakespearean format, to go towards the writing badge.  It’s a slight variation on the traditional form, which has a rhyme scheme of abab cdcd, etc., and instead my poem follows an abcb form. I also tried to follow iambic pentameter, but alas! I’m no Shakespeare.


Long the sea did go unchallenged,

Yielding not to any soul,

Those who tried to chance it met

A hard embrace of deadly cold.

In the tales we hear of ancients

Who found themselves locked in their lands

And stranded, built their wooden ships,

They met on distant shores of strand.

Bold, hard men explored the world,

Fought and lived on endless sea,

They set out against an age-old foe

And carved deep grooves in history.

Yet ships still fear the depths below,

They mark the land where no man goes.

-Chloe Carr