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Soldier Inspirational Poems | Inspirational Poems About Soldier

These Soldier Inspirational poems are examples of Inspirational poems about Soldier. These are the best examples of Soldier Inspirational poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric |

The Soldiers Lullaby

She once walked with him and stopped with him
when they heard that familiar refrain.
She'd stand beside him while he'd salute
her pride for her Soldier was plain,

and every night, 
while he'd hold her tight
contented and happy, she'd sigh.
They would drift off to sleep
listening to the beat
of the Soldiers Lullaby.

They play the National Anthem
to fill us with fire and pride
and the last one they play every evening
is the Soldiers Lullaby.

Twice a day at nine eleven
when her Soldier was in Iraq
she'd bow her head in silence
to remember that September attack,

and when she'd get home in the evening
tired and lonely, she'd cry.
She'd pray that somewhere he was listening
to the Soldiers Lullaby.

Now she stands at the gate in the airport
heart pounding as Soldiers stream by,
so excited she can barely contain it
overwhelmed she's starting to cry,

and the crowd is beginning to thin now
the tears and the laughter all die,
heart broken and lonely, she stands there
when she hears his voice simply say "hi"...

It's been years since she's thought of that moment,
they've been busy with life passing by.
Two girls and two boys
now fill their lives with joy
and time really does seem to fly,

but at night when she's tucked in her family
she still bows her head with a sigh
and she never forgets to remember
The Soldiers Lullaby.

~For Jenn with love


Details | Idyll (Idyl) |

The Wreath, A Soldier Chronicle pt. 1

A fine mist, hovers close to the ground,
But it cannot be a fog.

It cannot be, it's a hundred and three,
This is desert, not a bog.

Strain as I may, I still cannot see,
The earth, that lies beneath.

Until a man, comes into view,
He gently sets a wreath.

My camera softly clicks, but once,
At the Solemn view,

I caught his eye, he walked my way,
And whispered " who are you"

I said, I'm taking photographs,
To chronicle this fight,

Just then, the mist began to clear,
My eyes beheld the sight,

For what happened here, the night before,
The worst I had ever seen.

I could not bring myself to shoot,
I just could not believe,

The soldier pointed out a patch,
On a dead mans arm,

The Stars and Stripes,smeared with blood,
Protects me from all harms.

I bowed my head, tears filled my eyes,
At the carnage I did see,

These men and women lying here,
Bravely died for me.

As I raised my head, to thank him,
The soldier with the wreath,

He briskly turned, stood up straight,
I could barely breath,

He raised a stiff hand, to his brim,
Slowly let it fall,

Then suddenly he disappeared,
If not there at all.

I walked among the fallen troops,
Looked down, could not believe,

The soldier that lay below me,
Was the one that set the wreath.


  To the Soldiers of Desert Storm


Details | Free verse |

The Center's Footsteps

Thoust message rings,
But it is a wretched beauty.
Sew up thine tongue;
It forks in many directions,
Ensnaring, passing through the centers,
Weaving a thread gleaming, deceivingly white,
Yet drenched in the black goo,
The sticky gobs of our source, our blood.
Cast aside thine needle,
Let time make it blunt.
Wallow in thine sorrow,
But only for a moment.
Up, up with you!
The sticky gobs cannot protect thee.
See me, Hear me.
For I see thee...
Thou hast split thine tongue
To hide, to forget.
Thine forked words, black to all, clear to me.
Go on, go ahead,
Walk through its enveloping black.
And when you cannot run,
Crawl.
And when you can’t do that anymore, 
Find someone to carry you.
Thou art strong!
Let thine center give you new feet!
Yet,
If even thine center falls weary,
I shalt be thine legs.
I shalt carry you, my friend.


Details | I do not know? |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)


Details | Rhyme |

Lewis And Clark

They were Meriwether Lewis and William Clark,
Her name was Sacagawea.
On an expedition they did embark
Finding the passage to the sea.

Down the Missouri they traveled, 
Then slithered 'round the Snake River bend.
Rocky Mountain weather and sickness battled;
At the Columbia River they'd end. 



©2013 Honestly JT


Details | Lyric |

The Walking Man

The walking man walks with no place to go,
Head tucked down with his eyes lookin' low.
We gotta reach out 
We gotta hold his hand
We gotta reach out 
To the walking man


He's seen it all, lived the wars out there.
Now he's blowing around like a leaf in the air.
We gotta reach out 
We gotta hold his hand
We gotta reach out 
To the walking man


Walking man don't mean no harm he don't mean to lie.  
He's just one careless face from a way to die, a way to fly, to say goodbye…..


So it's you and me and the walking man makes three;
Such a better number to be.


He's tired and warn like a piece of coal,
But he could light the city with the light in his soul.
We gotta reach out 
We gotta hold his hand
We gotta reach out 
To the walking man


Walking man don't mean no harm he don't mean to lie.  
He's just one careless face from a way to die, a way to fly, to say goodbye…..


Because it's you an me and the walking man makes three;
Such a better number to be
©2013C.LBaker


Details | Heroic Couplets |

Eat A Little Piece

Poem: Titled: Eat A Little Piece?My Poetry on PoetrySoup
 Written by: Ronald Watson.
March 10, 2013.

Eat A Little Piece?
Ethel, she is an elderly little lady who bakes sweet tasty treats, and constantly, she is asking,” Please, come on, eat a little piece?”
It was her secret cooking recipe’ that would knock the socks right off of your feet.
Then, she gathered up together all of, “The Powers That Be.”
When it came time for them to eat a little piece.
To sip it up with their coffee and tea;
Devour some up like, the cookie monster on: Sesame Street.
Either, it should taste more like, their moms red beans and rice.
Or it would taste just like, those sweet and honey barbeque ribs that is cooked so nicely.
Because it is her secret cooking recipe’. Yet, still she is asking, “Come on now, please try a little peace?”
But, they all just stood and shook their heads, saying that they were all having War instead.My Poetry on PoetrySoup

Thank You.


Details | Dramatic monologue |

The Duchess Of Paradise

She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror


Details | Ballad |

My sickness and my healing

My sickness and my healing

When I came back from Vietnam
I was afraid of everything
I really don’t know why this was
Cause, no danger did it bring
To me, my stay in that country
But the poisons that they used
Convinces me that they stuffed my mind
Those powers, our heads abused.

That fear in me was so intense
My mind was filled with dread
I was afraid of being alive
I was afraid of being dead
Sometime I’d freeze so totally
Like I was paralyzed.
I went to so much counseling
So many tears I cried.

And then one day I searched the net
And I found this little site
The site they call it ‘just one look’
And they did do me right
It took four years, but now I’m sane
I have no fear at all
And I have no anxiety
I’m no more a crazy fool.

5 September 2013 @ 1345hrs


Details | Narrative |

Ten Brothers

Beneath a flag of red and white
A soldier quietly lies,
His mother sits just to his right
Tears falling from her eyes.

Brothers lie all laid in rows
Around his final bed,
A cross for each one shows
Their names above their heads.

Seven more stand by his side
With rifles standing tall,
Dressed in honor, feeling pride
For this brother who gave all.

One more stands by his feet
A bugle in his hand,
Plays that melody so sweet
Of taps now for this man.

Two more now step up to fold
Old Glory from her pall,
And place it in Mom's hand to hold
A present from us all.

Ten brothers stand by this man's grave
With respect in just suffice,
For this soldier who proudly gave
His life for freedom's price.

Ten brothers came to send him on
To take his final station,
But thousands more sit at home
Giving thanks with the entire nation.

Somewhere, lying overseas
The man who took this life,
Ten buzzards now has he
Giving thanks at his grave site!


                          Timothy I. Brumley


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