Love Sonnet XVIII
My love, your beauty glimmers like the morn
You are the hope after a long black dark
The gods themselves their love on you adorn
You wake the tired with music like a lark
Your wonder lasts into the afternoon
And the sun may fly high, but you soar higher
Your love and the sun’s heat both make men swoon
But in their hearts you light a dif’rent fire
You never shall sink into that dark night
Your life is sanctified and you’ve been blest
Stars pale in comparison to your great light
You bring with you a blissful peace and rest
With you as my compass I shall not stray
I’ll love you through ev’ry minute of day

Love Sonnet XIX
Your eternal beauty death cannot touch
You are vivacious and so filled with life
For the wounds of my heart you are a crutch
No evil could hurt you, who’d be my wife
And wherever you go there is no pain
You’re sweet, when round you nothing can be tart
You’re strong, unlike others who wax and wane
I imagine you as a work of art
Perhaps a piece by Monet or Van Gogh
You’d be portrayed by the brightest of paints
Just a true artist could help others know
They’ll see you greater than even saints
Those who could portray your greatness are few
So that’s why I write these poems for you

Love sonnet XX
We all are victims to the gods of time
We try to fight it but all waste away
Ev’rything grows older with each clock’s chime
To take all from mortal man is child’s play
Each futile moment, though the end is nigh
I suppose that as I await my end
As I wait for the falling of the sky
That I may wait with you; my loving friend
As through the hour glass the grains of sand
Fall and signal the coming end of earth
I long to have the will to take your hand
And seize the friendship I’ve longed for since birth
So I will stand through each withering squall
And I shall wait for you until the stars fall

Who has too much free time? I do! The next two are not love sonnets, they're much more amusing.

Study Hall
In this silent chamber I watch the clock
I am overwhelmed by this dumb quiet
I am maddened by the tick-tock, tick-tock
How I wish for an exciting riot
The boredom taunts me with each pencil scratch
I’m filled with loathing by each sniffling nose
The fun I could start with a single match…
Each painful second since my watch froze
Each second passes like a long decade
There is no way to tell how much time is left
What I’d give to hit something with a spade
I can only stare at that weird kid’s cleft
But one good thing comes from this boring plight
These stupid poems I have time to write

Antisocial
I like to torture cute woodland creatures
I love to hurt and maim them out of spite
I point and laugh at their mangled features
It’s fun to set their small corpses alight
There are those who’d be glad to call me sick
They call my antisocial acts crazy
I hold the gun and then I point and click
The line twixt right and wrong is too hazy
Oh yes, I frolic and I prance with glee
I maniacally rampage through fields
On a delightful killing spree
And smile at what my sadism yields
But now I can no longer receive calls
Now they keep me between padded walls

Here's a bonus non-sonnet poem.

I’ll swear you have my love in dark or light
It’s yours in shining day and shadowed night
You have no shadow, you are gold and bright
Your beacon cannot evade my true sight
To be loved by you is a sacred rite
You bring calmness to those who wish to fight
Such peace and love is the root of your might
Your should is free and flies like a kite
A chat with you can weather any plight
The dif’rence twixt you and a god is slight
Your heart gives even the most weighted flight
You’re sweet and loving, but never trite
You’re dressed in an angel’s shroud of pure white
Such love is why your hand I do requite
Your shine makes the darkest draw back in fright
I look to you up on heavenly height
I dream I’d be you shining armored knight
To follow you is always what is right
Your soul untainted without thoughts of spite
You’ll be my comfort when I feel death’s bite