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Sonnet Courage Poems | Sonnet Poems About Courage

These Sonnet Courage poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Courage. These are the best examples of Sonnet Courage poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sonnet | |

Stones In The Honeyed Ring Of Time

Stones In The Honeyed Ring Of Time

Sitting here dejected, mere pile of bones
pleasure, just memory in darkest past.
Strip out each lie one polishes and hones
facing truth, nothing can forever last! 

Stark reality of deeds soaked in slime 
pain, a racing bird sent to torture me. 
Memories in the honeyed ring of time 
everything costs dearly, nothing is free!

Evil are the chains wrapping my crushed Soul 
Time, a sword cutting so deeply my heart.
lost hope of any future winning goal 
sad truth is ripping rest of me apart!

Pile of bones, only treasure I have got. 
Smelling meat, seeing its hideous rot!

Robert Lindley, 01-10- 2015

Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10
Total # Syllables:	140
Total # Lines:	17  (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically:	 
Total # Words:	100

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |

A Penny For Your Thoughts

 Contest entry: 
 Forms: Sonnet (a,b,a,b) (c,d,c,d) (e,f,e,f) (g,g) 
 Three stanzas and a couplet(a summary) ..
 Ten syllables per line

 You may search and find a saying to inspire you please 
 include the quote on your work..
 Please use_ A Penny For Your Thoughts as your title..

A Penny For Your Thoughts

 Father said, son listen to that church bell
 Life just may beat you into submission
 Or drag you deep into a living hell
 To avoid that seek truth as your mission

 Sound of truth rings so very loud and clear
 Let goodness be your greatest living guide
 On that path the Light casts away all fear
 Your love and deeds you will not have to hide

 Son asks, dad how can I always be sure
 Will there not be days of terrible doubt
 My son, live your life seeking to be pure
 Then his love you will never be without

 Tis' the courage to continue that counts
 In this race , best we use our finest mounts

 Robert J. Lindley, 03-14-2015
 Poem contest entry...
 Results shown:

 Poem Syllable Counter Results 
 Syllables Per Line: 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 10 10 0 10 10 
 Total # Syllables: 140 Total 
 # Lines: 17 (Including empty lines) 
 Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: 
 N/A Total # Words: 115

 Nationality: English
 Type: Statesman
 Born: November 30, 1874 
 Died: January 24, 1965 

 "Success is not final, failure is 
 not fatal: it is the courage to 
 continue that counts."

 Winston Churchill

 My quote chosen comes from the famous and brilliant
 quote from the epically great Sir Winston Churchill.
 I had to slightly rephrase the quote to meet the ten syllable 
 requirement of the sonnet form used.
Strikes me that the deepest thought we can ever have is this....
Where do we go after this life ends and how do we find that path?
My poem gives the answer that so many reject...

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |

Silent No More

I walk the city streets with heavy feet,
drawn in grave thoughts of all I dare not ask
of kings watching on high with hearts concrete, 
and sons who taunt from eyes through steely masks.

Their laws are not the laws of decent men.
These tyrants rule steadfast with ill-intent.
Like Herod’s bloody rule in Bethlehem,
the massacred are fallen innocent.

And when shall I awaken with my voice,
to speak for those who have no voice to tell
of brutal acts and minds without the choice,
to think of life above the depths of hell?

Still, heavy are my feet with soul and heart
as lips in protest slowly start to part.   

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Details | Sonnet | |


"Talking Leaves" fasinated Sequoyah
A Cherokee who accomplished great feats
In noble deed stands tall like a sequoia
Though lame fought beside Jackson no defeat  

Success in battle 'pon warrior's horse
Winner in defeating illiteracy
He had an alphabet to endorse
After ten years effort deliberate

When his enlightment brought light, joy flowed
Then the Cherokee printing press spread news
Knowledge spread and troubled brewed discord sowed
The beginning of the "Trail Of Tears" diffuse

Sequoyah intelligent lone warrior
Battled to make his tribe superior

Sponsor: Shanity Rain
Contest: Native American People
Written: November 12, 2013

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Sonnet | |

Worker Bee

Caught in the hidden trap of normality
Where the weird little freak inside can never be free
Are we really any better in this society?
With every unusual act we judge the worker bee
For daring to be different instead of the same
Wishing to be free of this copycat chain
With hears that vibrate and bodies refusing to resonate
When a mind is unique we begin to hate
Nobody wants to be ostracized so we act the same
Inside the higher self is paralysed by pain
With nothing to lose and everything to gain
Except all of your friends and disposition of sane

Copyright © Mr Jaybus

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

Flight of the Stone Captive

Devonian birthed an innocent beach
down at the delta of a river great.
Compressed and oppressed by sediment weight,
sand became stone hidden far from life's reach.

A northern ice-angel came to impeach
the cloak of silt atop the stone's pate.
Leaving exposed in a fixed angry state
labyrinths and crevices bred of the breach.

But soon upon the sedimentary,
dampened and moist facing east and north,
spread verdant moss and ethereal fern.

The friendlier integumentary
fed roots of cherry and beech bringing forth
flight that ascended to Holocene's turn.

Ann Silverthorn 1995
This poem is about Panama Rocks, formed by a glacier, in upstate New York.

Copyright © Ann Silverthorn

Details | Sonnet | |

We Will Not Comply

We Will Not Comply

I never thought I’d live to see the day
When children would be taught that God is dead,
The flag we love, someone would take away,
Or leaders in corruption share a bed.

It matters not to me who ridicules;
I am American, I will rebel.
I’ll keep my God, my guns, my right to use
Free speech the truth to tell.

We never thought to live in tyranny—
Just to stand for truth could mean your life;
We need to recognize we are not free—
We will not save our country without strife.

Will we rise and claim our liberty
Or take the lies and bow to slavery?

Copyright © Karen Ruff

Details | Sonnet | |

Stone In The Cold-3

I face the final test of nature's truth.
The nights coming fast, I travel unheard.
The reverence I feel, was born in my youth,
tempered by sage, burnt offerings for birds.
Tormented by brambles whose thorns I collect
I come to remains of struggles long gone,
feathers and crushed bone, on these I reflect.
I'm hoping once more, my arms are still strong.
A pine marten scurries, close to my step,
the sweet scent of birch gum, his claws unearth.
My arrow's still sheathed, for creeks I have leapt.
Though I grow cold, my spirit is re-birthed.
Tracks at the creek, the water I savor
the thicket moves, my aim must not waver.


Copyright © James Marshall Goff

Details | Sonnet | |

Infinity and beyond

Deserve the world my child,my son
If I could give, with heart I'd run
Pray instead, I must for you
Placed many tools to get you through
Life ahead unknown my son

So much I wish, your dreams ignite
Strive for all, please shine that light
Become the man I know you'll be 
But please for you and not just me
Dig deep inside with every might

Strive for all thats due, you'll see
Deserving much from world, not me
Kindness, compassion, intelligence too
Owning these gifts, build confidence in you
By example, trust, live life for thee

Accept these words I give from me
My child, a man will come to be

Copyright © Jennifer Marie Oliver

Details | Sonnet | |


I want to say good night
But its night as yet to you
I can see darkness now
If maybe you never left

I have to say good night
Darkness has defeated me
Only your love can resurrect me
I am afraid to go now
But I have to go and live under the shads
Love me to my silent place

Good night when you see the moon
Flower me with roses from abandon garden 
Cover me with what i was and be now
Good night sleep with elevated power

Copyright © Zakhe Michael Mcunu

Details | Sonnet | |

Never to be Erased

What once was true can never be erased
It must remain a testament to time
In mind and heart it cannot be defaced
And to it will not cling denial's grime

To hide what was a part of history 
The story of your life and heart's desire
To now pretend that it's a mystery
Will serve to burden heart and make it tire

Be not ashamed of feelings that were true
Of love you found the will so to express
What heart extols through words must shine on through
To bury truth, the harm will not redress

Be truth to self, and stand by what you write
Or lose yourself, and thus lose poet's might

Eileen Manassian

Post Script:

A poem is a living breathing entity that exits outside the poet's control. When we write, we risk being judged and that is painful, but...if we never write, we risk the judgment of our own hearts, and that is cowardice. I've deleted a poem or two here because I've been afraid of what people will say of it, particularly the sensual pieces. In the end, I've felt like I'm not true to myself when I conform to what others think of me. Have I been attacked for it? Yes! Has it hurt? Yes! Did it make me evaluate myself? Yes! Did it teach me a lesson? Yes! It taught me to be STRONGER...and stick to my guns. What we most fault in what others write is what we are struggling with ourselves. It's true. There is a fine line between being vulnerable and being wise. That fine line is the POET'S to cross, and no one else's. :)

Copyright © Eileen Manassian

Details | Sonnet | |


I wish I could catch a star 
was the voice I heard as I sat on the grass
I look through the meadow
	all I could see was her shadow
Walking up close 
her mouth ajar, I could see her white teeth
A gash on the left side of her face 
she touched, felt with a loud wail.
Her heart bitter
	I could see its emptiness
Sickly, she stole a glance at me
	like a dog peeping through a window
All tears, she shook bitterly 
	even though her eyes were hard as flint
Sitting next to her, like a couple on a date
	I hold her arm and lo! Soft was its feel.
Sullen, heartbroken, painfully
	she smiled at me sweetly
On the wet grass sitting  
together arm in arm we gaze into space
the air cool, calm
	even though it was covered in a haze
face clouded with tears, gay with life
	I could see smiles setting on her left cheek
Happily, I smile back knowing
	I had enkindled the hope she had lost in the murk.

Copyright © olufunminiyi salawu

Details | Italian Sonnet | |

I Lost My Love's Ship

The news came to me as hell
On your fake ship my sails fell 
You broke my heart 
Wafted from you treason smell                

A demon cut the rope 
My feelings drowned in mope
I lost my love's ship
Still I have hope 

 I will not fall down 
I will find my land again
Draw a new map for my heart 
And my ship will return 

Heaven will send its cloud and blow its wind 
And each will reap what he sow at the end 

Copyright © Arabian Poet

Details | Sonnet | |

The Spanish king and I

The King and I
I have seen the king of Spain abdicating 
in full uniform, but his cap was too small 
this made him look jolly except for his
cane and the small steps of an old man. 
Until recently he looked handsome and 
had many mistresses and he was fond of 
hunting elephants; he has given up both 
pursuits and is faithful to the queen. 
Old age sometimes arrive suddenly, there
you are walking about feeling in tune with
the world, for next waking up in a hospital
being lifted by strong arms from a trolley to
a bed and have your shrunken ***** cleaned 
by a brisk nurse. The king and I are identical.

Copyright © jan oskar hansen

Details | Sonnet | |


Imagine a world where nothing matters
Think about it for a second, really
No questions like, was it worth it anymore
Not seeing the point of a world in tatters

Consider; if no one felt any fear
And people with confidence and no doubt
If they carried their dreams above themselves
Knowing how useless, all that they hold dear

Envision this world of variety
A kaleidoscope that creates a self
Picture each individual lonely
But deep inside there is homogeny

Day after day the cosmos continues
Then a final day where nothing matters

©david byrne jan 2013 

Copyright © David Byrne

Details | Sonnet | |

Ghost orchid

what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
his tears caused contractions for his heart to pulse
floundered, looking for loves heartache to clutch
whimsical solace of her essence startles his impulse 

 shouldering the bane of a kiss that foreshadowed trifles
kooky huh? how time unleashes emotions restrained behind pride
 losing his beloved inamorata to an admirer she mollycoddles
his heart became friable to the echo of her suicide

It was the absence of a note that left his worries unverified
what makes the heart feel for something it can't touch?
Now alone and without; a lovers heart is mummified
he will never love another as much

the “ghost orchid” has become her epithet
the rules of this game have changed, misère ouverte.

 I chose Bonnie Raitt “I can't make you love me” because when I listened to it it brought 
back memories of my childhood feeling second to my fathers work. His physical presence was 
always their, but his heart belonged to his work and still is. After listening to the song  5 or 6 
times I thought of the question, what makes the heart feel for something that it can't 
touch----like love, and went from there.

Copyright © Mark Taylor

Details | Sonnet | |

The Adventures of Plow

Part I – Plow’s New Home

He was squiggly and fat with dark round eyes.
The auctioneer held him up, but no ayes!
Five dollars, do I hear $10? …. A real find!

 “He won’t get much bigger than he is now.”
My ticker was beating faster and how!
I held up my card; my heart did a jig.
Before I knew it, I had bought the pig.

Ruth had a cage; so we brought the boy home.
He was so much fun and he loved to roam.
Each morning, Plow would follow me around.
Rooting under bushes where snacks were found.

Plow worked in the garden everyday.
But then one day, the boy ran away.

Part II – Plow’s First Adventure

My heart was sunken and my fear took flight.
He was growing bigger, a yummy sight.
Suppose he had wondered deep in the woods.
Or worse yet, plundering the neighborhoods.

I loved that pig and his little pig snout.
Apple in my hand; Plow would take it out.
Sometimes the dog would race him for the find.
The pig and the dog seemed to share one mind.

What would Ginger do without her pig friend?
After three days gone, would our sad hearts mend?
He had grown so fat, safer if thinner.
I prayed to God he would not be dinner.

Riding to town down the winding dirt road,
We saw Plow confined; good fortune bestowed.

Part III - Courting the Sow	

Down the way, there lived a pretty pink sow.
She must have been shocked when she first saw Plow.
He was eighteen inches long, not at all tall.
Yet, there he was flirting her in her stall.

The sow was huge, ready for the slaughter.
My piglet had roamed and become a squatter.
The landowner said his sow was in heat.
And there stood Plow with his head at her feet.

High ambitions for a pot-bellied pig,
He went half a mile for his courtship gig.
Running through the woods, he wanted to stay.
But we caught him and took him home that day.

We had to build him a special pigpen.
His days of free roaming came to an end.	

November 13, 2014

P.S.  Thanks for the Contest!  I've finally started my book, today.  This is a true story...and there is much more to come.  Big Smiles.

Copyright © Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Details | Sonnet | |

Volatile dreams

Morning beach caressing white sands and waves
Murmuring the forgotten song ready to roam,
Towards the lonely rock , paradise of the young waifs
With volatile desires and dreams, all gone.
Vulnerable verdure near living volcano, a hot place
Cast by a fleet of green clouds on yellow skies
Where misleading light showed the fate`s lace.
The red flame goes kingly down, until sunrise.

Kindliness, on an empty beach smiling to man; 
Knitting covering the sides of the rock calls life in.
The hot rock will knit the smoking brows again;
It makes signs towards the graceful sea with green skin.

Like an inward song for a deaf beach somewhere,
There the volcano seems asleep in a hush of salt air.

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa

Details | Sonnet | |


You are the brave.
That is something to be proud of. 
You enlisted with ideology of what has to come.
Your days are not by day.
You prepare for tomorrow.
No matter what branch you chose you climb to limb.
To set high above the enemy with the ally
To defeat why you deployed 
To conquer peace and to cease war
You will be heroes.
You will be the Wall.
You be the strength that conquers all.
Your mastery of defense and skills, as militant, has withstood the cause.
I welcome you home with open arms and rejoice when you reenter the workforce.
PENNED ON AUGUST 30, 2014 @ 12:30 A.M. EST!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Curtal Sonnet | |


no i don't make sense
i'm most always tense
and my heart has dents
but why should that stop us?

my theories are juvenile
my thoughts are in a pile
and my worries go on for a while
but you won't notice.

i don't have much
i can screw up everything i touch
and my morals sometimes wind up in a bunch
but i won't stop being in love with you.

no i'm not pretty
my days are most always shitty
and i have too much pity
but my soul is open to you.

Copyright © bridget bennett

Details | Sonnet | |

Beautiful Lies

December 18, 2012

Beautiful lies known as little white lies
yet one is no more deceptive than each
The truth is what makes it afraid of light
It's important we practice what we preach

Imagination built on lies destroy
Imagination built on truth create
Conquering evil we try to avoid
Tooth fairy, Halloween, Santa abate

Perceptions and images make it real
Origins of Pagan rituals true
We've wandered down this path for a bum deal
Now more lies are created all brand new

The mask behind a beautiful white lie
is the truth with a constant shield, but why?

Copyright © humble b

Details | Sonnet | |

Another Wasted

She waits in silence for him to come back,
Knowing better than to ask where he's been.
When stumbling in with a bottle of Jack,
She knows at that moment it will begin.

Another night painted purple with proof,
Though she swears she'll leave him every next day.
Staring right through his eyes she stands aloof,
Not even bothering to plead or pray.

Like water lets the wind take all control,
She becomes a stone wall, flinching never.
Appearing strong but by an empty soul,
She wishes only to sleep forever.

She now lies still like a rock under Earth.
Neither one knew what value she was worth.

Copyright © Samantha Senft-Greenberg

Details | Free verse | |

Last Sonnet

Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.

Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena

Details | Sonnet | |

Wounded Bird of Flight

Young love bird wounded during your flight
Worried now where your companion landed
You sing a beautiful song, but still no sight
Certainly now he must have gotten stranded

The magical serenade continues to no avail
Some concern now for your own well being
This winter flight treacherous you feel frail
The singing stops, you are hardly breathing

One pilgrimage not completed you feel pain
Some guilt overtakes when you start to heal
The flying before your partner was it in vain
Or is there.a bird needing your singing still

Bird of flight your journey is still not done
Heal now, continue to fly for the other one

Penned by Wayland Bunch 2/12/2013

Copyright © wayland bunch

Details | Sonnet | |

Yes, Eventually

Yes, Eventually

Eventually life sends a message clear
 embrace courage abandon your fear
Take big steps to lead a life of hope
 anything is possible given enough rope

Eventually a great storm will try to slay
 prepare faithfully for such a tragic day
Take all our evil vices into account
 upon a charging steed soundly mount

Eventually critics will call for your head
 by lying about things you never said
Take measure of the false steps they make
 shine a great light proving they are fake

Eventually the world will learn to respect you
Even then, fools and knaves will not have a clue

Robert J. Lindley, 07-27-2014 

Had to slam one more out .....

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |

Shadows Creep, I Lost Sleep

Shadows Creep, I Lost Sleep

Shadows crept into my room late at night
those dark nasty ones with razor like teeth
Defiant I soon dared to taunt and fight
slimy ones prancing down and underneath

Climbing ones scratched slowly up moving walls
fat, dark and nasty ones scattered about
Shrieking ones gave out wicked little calls
some cursed my soul with demonic shout 

Last came ever patient and slashing kind
creeping in so close to my shaking bed
Searching very slow for bare toes to find 
clawing bed sheets now wrapped over my head

A light blasts on from lamp on my nightstand
Strange, they vanished, I never lifted my hand!

Robert J. Lindley, 08 -22 -2014

Dark memories haunt my past.
I know such are dead and blessings are here 
now to last...

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Sonnet | |

The Container

February 06, 2007



The Container



Contained around me is a wall you see.

Thick layers of molten and rock are here.

But the wind is what keeps bringing near.

And the Stars keep telling me to be me.


Shining down is a light that just might be.

Followed by decades and decades of year!

And swallowed up by all might for a fear!

Whisked away they were shining as they flee.


The Sun set ever so high.

And the Moon peered out.

You could reach the sky,

And knew what it is all about.


You do know it’s the restrainer?

Collecting contents in the container!



© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007

Copyright © Ann Rich

Details | Sonnet | |



All right, so I introduced you to each other,
She, sotto voce, with sweet piercing alter
Ego and intransigent integral and inviolate
Laws, you with your collection of newspaper
Cuttings of riots, strikes, and the dialectical
Alternative: mottled eyes and the poor man’s pudding
Of truth, flavoured with salt fish loneliness.

In the dim furls of the watchman’s banner
The night was just ending, so go to it -
Discern why I separately loved you.
As I make my way home by myself,
The pure gold of my honourable gesture
Will shine like an Indian summer on a child,
Be meditation for your spirit on our silent spring.

By Rosemarie Rowley
Published in IN MEMORY OF HER, Dublin, 2008

Copyright © Rosemarie Rowley

Details | Sonnet | |


I can't continuously catch this connection
coroscating so cordially as a cure...
Captivating my cranium contemporaneously
contaminating collation of common sense.
I can't think...
And our growing link
makes my heart sink
with your every wink!
Blink... Blink...
Are you reality?
I reach right past self-denial's ruse of
what's real with no rest reeking of regicide
fearing a relapse regarding regression.
Recklessly running rampart racing
to our heart's reunion.
Your soul saying "Speak sonnets of Sensuality".
So sexy yet sensibly sweet...
Seeking to be shown your sentiments.
You're the destination of heaven above.
And I... am in love!

By: Soul's Floetry

Copyright © Souls Floetry

Details | Sonnet | |

Learning with Age

as a boy I busted my chin open
and I needed to get myself stitches
once they were in place didn’t reopen
soon I was back playing in the ditches

I never knew what stiches was back then
I heard of stitches I was really scared
years later something else happen again
going with Rob for chemo unprepared

I heard of chemo without knowing it
after it was done he was in so much pain
heating pad on his back when he did sit
Cancer ate him away he was so drain

best friend for a few years helped me a lot
for many his life not a passing thought

Copyright © Robert Heemstra