Katherine Czerwinski - The Pains of Being Weak and Evil: An Amateur Sonnet About Being A Woman

If you have ever been a woman, then

My dilemma will be known to you:

I cannot do what most of the men can

Yes, I'm weak and evil, it is too true.

Lack of strength and sinful desires

All too often dominate my life,

Like an unwanted beast from mires

Of control and unrelenting strife.

But hope's discovered in the little things;

The self sacrifice and acceptance

Of my condition, oh, joy it brings.

No constant hold to this evil trance!

These things I cannot change, not on my own,

But through Him who sits upon the throne.

Walt Hackney Sonnet

Even though there are oceans, seas

Refusing my true love and I

Lord, kneeling down on humbled knees

Do I beseech you bring her nigh

And someday soon we meet again

Dear Lord, please keep her always true

To this lowly man among men

And I the same, and never do

A thing that I should now regret

For now I'll think of days gone past

Remember times I'll not forget

And love this one girl to the last

For there is but one girl for me

Together soon we'll ever be

Anna Andrews Sonnet

My fear is not that life will seem too short

Nor is my angst that love will break my heart

I do not pain that men my words contort

Nor do I dread my worldly wealth depart

I see behind All, time in shapes and forms

Existing on the wings of place and past

What worth has instant lost in rains and storms

When light concealed by cloud's forgotten fast.

My fright is that the sun will set on days

Without our purpose glimpsed like Winter's breath

For God has called for each to win His ways

This world to know their hope outlasting death

For moments gained are worth a thousand's cost

Christ's truth displayed, alone, is life not lost

Of Blood, Grace, And New Songs - Roni Olson

What do I know of redemption's story?

Its concept embedded within my soul.

Yet my fallen mind refutes its glory;

I yearn to be free, I yearn to be whole.

The spilling of blood a fitting ransom.

Blood availed for me I often do doubt.

Embodiment of beauty, though not handsome; *

Paradoxes ask what love is about.

Yet the substance of things hoped for, the things

I've not seen, are those upon which faith rests. *

While my mouth remains closed, my soul still sings

Of grace undeserved, no longer a quest.

The divine with the human did collide,

And I live through the life of Him who died.