Sonnet Courage Poems | Sonnet Poems About Courage

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Details | Sonnet |

Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field

Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field
(A Tribute)

Tough as nails young man with a red right hand
red-fire and whiskey ran in his blood.
Courageous seed of vast and cold hard land
quick temper, power of a surging flood.
Seeker of life, its promised mysteries
rash gambler with all he would ever own.
Born on ship in high wind swept, roaring seas
toughest warrior his town had ever grown.

Met his fate by volley of red-hot lead
buried on ground scared and battle blasted.
Aye boys, fodder that machine guns were fed
fools marching to death, long as it lasted.

Now flowers cover up and Time denies
scenes of battle torn soil and blood-red skies.

R.J. Lindley
April 23rd, 1975

Tribute to Courage of Youth-- Second Battle of Ypres, April 22nd 1915 .

Note- added - 8-26-2017

The name Flanders Fields is particularly associated with battles that took place in the Ypres Salient, including the Second Battle of Ypres and the Battle of Passchendaele. For most of the war, the front line ran continuously from south of Zeebrugge on the Belgian coast, across Flanders Fields into the centre of Northern France before moving eastwards — and it was known as the Western Front.

The phrase originates from a poem titled In Flanders Fields by Canadian Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae, inspired by his service during the Second Battle of Ypres. The fields were not maintained for years before they were made into a memorial. Today Flanders Fields is home to thousands of poppies.


Found this while rummaging through some of my old poems. Decided not to edit it. Leave it as it was composed over 42 years ago..
Added the note for those not familiar with that battle and its horrific carnage, primarily from the insanity of large bodies of troops marching into direct machine gun fire.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

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 | Year Posted 2014

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 | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Thunder within the Silence

Their pen is mightier then their sword
As they walk and ponder the lonely mile
The slings and arrows that they have stored
Are hidden within their silent smile

I’m only beginning to know your name
For your whispers do move mountains
Perhaps are solitude's may be the same
As we throw our words into the fountains

Soul traveler that you have become
A silent warrior with a rhythmic mind
Poetic visionary who beats to their own drum
A mystic healer who is one of a kind

Whose words of wisdom do stun
Creator of verses—O Silent One.

Feb.27.2016   ^WW^

Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2016

Details | Italian Sonnet |

The Bridge of Dire Necessity

Moist jungle's steaming breath assaults my face
Molasses air I struggle to inhale
Your ruddy visage slowly drains to pale
Sharp cliff, black knife wound in the verdant space
Decrepit footbrige held up by mere grace
Each rope suspended taut by one sole nail
No time for turning back, it's move or fail
Their fever burns, thin lives that wane apace

We're down to you or me; I see I've lost
Your pallid tremors, so I walk on high
Death matters not, as all will share the cost
Without the cure, those that I love will die
Wood creaks as ropes strain, hands sweat, mind of frost
Firm terra I touch, sweet success is mine


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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 | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |

Courage of expression

More livid was the passion than boldness
to seek, be acquainted with words to speak,
for fear entangles the tongue with numbness,
henceforth remains an aura of mystique.
Courage ! To have the courage, and manner
of charm hidden behind the expression,
to approach and free the minds prisoner;
a loving soul filled with true devotion.
Yet words conveyed in forms apart from speech,
through words written to reveal true passion,
a discreet letter, at once to beseech,
words of love in a romantic fashion.

Manner of expression through written art
courage to jeopardize a brittle heart.

T.J Grén

Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

Oh Ye Poets, Weep Not

Oh Ye Poets, Weep Not!
(Apropos When Silence Is Betrayal)

To write of peace, love and beauty,
Would be what others think should be
The poets’ only duty;
Albeit, what we write, is like that of the dove;
Peace and love rendered from up high—Soaring
Within the oneness from God above—
Within the winds of truth blowing—
Let us not heed to the silencing ones trying to hold us in check;
Let not need of their approval make us a nervous wreck.
Let us write no lies we’ll later cringe and seek to deny;
Let no one cause us to question truth—asking why;
Let us remember the lamb of truth that chose to die!
Let’s always chose to pen and scream the truth of the heart!
Let’s always remember who chose us to echo words of a new start!

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

Fires of Life

Figuratively there is good and there is bad
Intuitively we know there are high paths and low
Rewarding goodness; not hatefulness when so sad
Eliminating love, the thief comes to take what you know

And there are consequences for each choice made
Children who wander lives without a mother nor dad
Destitute families who’s last night never laid
Unless a miracle occurs their lives will be bad

So, in the course of  suffering and destitution
Come magnificent family courage and strength
And some how a divine illumination 
Causes a peaceful and caring restitution

And the answers come often at the end of time
But, looking back, They’re no more blind 

©2016 All Rights reserved

Copyright © Bonnie Jennings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |



Fires burn waste and fire burns home
Igniting the ugly and the lovely the same
Roaring flames take lives and leave alone
Extinguishing for earth’s sake though lingers pain

Formerly were lives that mattered
And cats and dogs who once were brothers
And a place that stood not at all battered
Those children and grannies and significant others

But, the death of memories will vaguely play
The visions were given to strengthen souls
And will prevail on that final day
When man and beast enter heaven or Scheol    

What matters is that all senses do see
Living through fires, lessons well taught to thee.

Copyright © Bonnie Jennings | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |


Your precious youthful portrait you polish,
Till thy cheeks dye rose and yellow seems gold.
Seeking praise her truth she shall embellish,
Concealing blemish under manifold
Brushes in prayer for brief perfection:
“Make lush my lashes, allow my eyes allure,
 Veil in vanity this unloved complexion,
Feature me anew to comely contour.”
Who fed her the lie that her flaws were foes?
Who whispered she’d die unless she attain
A visage pure as those in heaven’s host,
Wherefore she sees her face and can’t complain.
     Pretty pictures indeed a frame deserves;
     Artless love, she ought learn, no mask can earn.

Copyright © Pariah Love | Year Posted 2016

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 | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Who am I

Once again i'm alone
searching within to find my strength
my light of passage has not been shone
traveling congested roads at great length
my people's always seem to miss the boat
waiting for monatary arms to embrace forseen love
i'm left to the solitude of hands to keep me afloat
like the symbolic dove
i bring love, peace, and a message
difficult to decipher from a spilt tounge
this prescription requires wisdom to be taken in small dosage
I ask from what tree is the virtue of a woman hung?
as seen with my eyes and felt with my heart
i have crossed many black cats and still have not found my counterpart.

who am I?

written for the contest sponsored by SKAT A "Guess who? Who am I? What am I?"

Copyright © Mark Taylor | Year Posted 2016

Details | Sonnet |

I was a soldier

I was a soldier of the past 
And I know im not the last
I signed up to serve my Queen
Far off lands I have seen

As that soldier I done my best
Losing friends laying them to rest
We fought for what was only right
Giving freedom to others at night

As bullets flew and bombs exploded
 My thoughts and mind just imploded
I could not say I wasn't scared
But my vision was not impaired

The smell of cordite all around
Waiting for the alarm to sound 
Then the order of stand fast
Hoping this attack would not last

They come at us with all they have
Rpgs and a Gustav 
We hold firm and do not falter
It's not our turn at the alter

Be brave young man I have to shout 
As the young man does scream out
I've been hit this is bad
I wish I was with my mum and dad

It's ok you will be fine
It's a promise that is mine
The bombardment ends and we look up
Let's sort this out my young pup

Gingerly we give first aid
That is why we get paid 
We stretcher him out to the heli pad
In a few days he's  with mum and dad

After a while I go to see
That young soldier who layed before me
He's up and about and full of cheer
Winks at me we go for a beer

For those guys that didn't survive 
We raise a glass cuddle and cry 
For all the new guys on your career
Wish you well I got your ear.

Copyright © Gordon Alexander | Year Posted 2016

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 | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2014

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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 | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2014

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 | Year Posted 2014

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 | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet |

Serenity Prayer Meditation

God, grant me sight and sense to feel your flow.
Through darkest forests which your grace directs
This life within dim sphere that swirls below
light’s realm,  your certain guidance does perfect

God grant your deepest strength to my life’s quest
In darkest times of night when light requires
my sinew to ensure your will’s success 
and righteousness demands your sacred fires

God, grant perspective lest I go amiss
A broader vision that I might apply
my faculties to serve you best.  In this
your guidance I beseech, my heart draws nigh

True path of grace and might through this fell world
I seek with humble heart, your will unfurled


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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 | Year Posted 2013

Details | Italian Sonnet |


World, beware of the turmoil to come, don't be caught in your hiding
succumbing to erratic fear, oppress all shivers and face the vile assailant
with a defying glance, then bite that hornet with a venomous sting
to end his brutality: he came to destabilize your land to achieve conquest!
Never comply, disregard a concept that spreads chaos and ignores justice,
come forward warriors and defeat with valor the blood-thirsty and the mad;
your fight is for an honorable cause: you're the hornets that are eager to bite,
and poison the enemy with your venom that's very painful when injected!
Don't wait until the threat becomes real, use your instincts and do prevail,
these godless and lawless men ferociously attack whoever despises them;
when we stir up their anger, they can be more vicious than hungry lions that maul:
they come forward and speak evil, their intent is to spread global mayhem!
I rather make peace than fight, revel in my freedom and shake hands with others:
If I must fight to preserve my liberties, I will indeed: I'll be a hornet fearless of bees!

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet |

Underwater Prayer

Immerse me Lord beneath the salty sea
send me bubbles of love that sparkle blue
Shoot me to the top aqua pure and free
As I plunge so vulnerable deep viewed
the channels of life's paths I do not flee
whimpering in distress bottomward brewed
while evil oozes in a whisper plea
don't let me skid among bedrock subdued
baptize me of passion while by my side
hug me as I cling to the rushing tide.

copyright 9/15/15   Tammy Reams   Contest sponsored by: Heather Ober 'My Favorite Form'
                              Contest Sponsored by: 'Broken Wing  Trashed #2'
                              Placed 9th

Copyright © TAMMY REAMS | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2014

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 | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2014

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 | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2013