Battlefields Poems - Poems about Battlefields

Herstory from Battlefields to Laboratories - Daniel Henry Rodgers Beneath stardust's scattered gleam, Her-story, a comet’s tail, blazing across time. Through seasons it molds ...Once hushed now bold We rise like a chorus harmonizing ...In this vast of an eternal fold. For I am Harriet Tubman ...leading souls unseen. A beacon blazing hope, through history's mainstream. Through the tranquil, moonlit ...I had a lucid dream. From...

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"Battlefields" Life is a battlefield we have no choice in choosing our wars they come to us like magnets eventually fate plays its thorns we wear its crown there is no strategy except that of surviving or turning in all our cards the days we play and like to number the needle of that sweet jazz record repeats our glitches the mother be our moon and stars she swears...

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I marched the roads of the Western Front To stem the tide of the Germans brunt And stayed in the mud and blood churned ground Of No Man’s Land and won to our victory bound Australia lost 60,000 daughters and sons Until the Armistice was signed and done On battlefields there is silence now And I Rest In Peace unbowed. © Paul Warren...

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Upon Battlefields Fallen True, Their Bloody Dead Part I. For Greek pride the courageous Greeks warriors bled Upon battlefields fallen true, their bloody dead Thus many, from Greek mothers loving hearts were torn Raised to be Greek heroes from day they were born. Those giants brave and true as Homer did so write Marching, fighting both by weary day and...

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A prison for stolen souls Battlefields are Trapped in the urgency of yesterday The chosen, unseen and silent The scarred earth they walk Past objectives, they search Grass now, blankets of rolling green Cover the fallen, not the pain...

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I have several young nephews who will come over quite a bit, I take them out on adventures so they can get something of it. Some folks would go to Disneyland, go on rides that make them squeal, that’s fine enough, but I instead take those kids to battlefields. Not active ones, I’m not mad, but those ones etched in history, am fortunate to have...

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Today I am doing better and I have written a poem . One inspired by my reading a post a member made at another site I am a member of. In which a member posted a poem by Thoreau: , ....The Summer Rain.... I found the verses about Homer, Ajax and the Greeks so...

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Traveling life's murky waters, Were these brave men. My friends in dark jungles. Dying for many who did not care. Malaria and typhoid invisible enemies; Still then, that occasional sniper bullet, Snuffing out a life in an instant. Fighting for country yet hated by some. Freedom was all they tried to preserve, While every night evil pounding helmets. Unrelenting hatred killing one at a time; Sometimes...

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Another year has marched out of my life. A crusading warrior making his way back home, Leaving bloody battlefields in his wake. Trampled valleys where dreams once stood. In the beginning, the year tiptoed in, Softly sprinkling crystallized wishes. Ideas, floating like a fine dusting of snow, Forming a light covering on my bed of anticipation. In swept the Ides of Spring laden...

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Sacred battlefields, ages old land now silent as death itself bodies that lie where strewn in battle become one with the earth for all eternity. Mighty lands once cloaked in beauty now lie covered in the life's blood of brave men, who with their last breath fight to defend that which they have known and believed since birth that to die for ones belief(s)...

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