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Religious Ballad Poems | Ballad Poems About Religious

These Religious Ballad poems are examples of Ballad poems about Religious. These are the best examples of Religious Ballad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad |

Rapture's Light

I’ve just had an experience unlike any other.
It was so great, cause now I’m with the Father.
I’ve just had an experience unlike any’ll know.
‘Cept for those who came with me in the flow.
Of Light! That is. The never-endin’ Light of the Lord.
The never-endin’ Light of the Lord!

I’ve been through hell all thro’out my life.
And I’ve had all kinds o’ different strife.
And I’ve been hard-press’d.
And I’ve been depressed.
And just when I thought I got the hang o’ things,
They change, and they rearrange.

I’ve done all sorts o’ things.
Stupid things. Crazy things.
But now times have changed.
And everything has rearranged.
And all that I e’er knew,
Has come back to bite you.

I’ve just had an experience unlike any other.
It was so great, cause now I’m with the Father.
I’ve just had an experience unlike any’ll know.
‘Cept for those who came with me in the flow.
Of Light! That is. The never-endin’ Light of the Lord.
The never-endin’ Light of the Lord!

So listen closely as I tell what’s happened to the world.
The world’s spun it’s last spin and has finally hurled.
The Hea’nly Host has brought us up.
All us Christians, that is, pup.
Anyone listening to this,
is more ‘an likely in any state but bliss.

If this is bein’ heard,
Then e’eryone is real disturbed.
You may’ve just witnessed all of us disappearing,
But there’ll still be another hearing.
Like it’s been for all of life, ‘cept for this one instance that is,
You may come to meet the Lord after you perish.

You’ll have an experience unlike any other.
It’ll be so great, cause you’ll be with the Father.
You’ll have an experience unlike any’ll know.
‘Cept for those who’ll come with you in the flow.
Of Light! That is. The never-endin’ Light of the Lord.
The never-endin’ Light of the Lord!

I shall end this now for I’m ent’rin the Pearly Gates o’ Heav’n.
It’s more beautiful than can be describ’d by any Reveren’.
If somehow this reaches you people on Earth,
Remember this one thing from the hearth.
There’ll always be hope, so stay strong!
Don’t worry, this torture won’t last long.

You’ll have an experience unlike any other.
It’ll be so great, cause you’ll be with the Father.
You’ll have an experience unlike any’ll know.
‘Cept for those who’ll come with you in the flow.
Of Light! That is. The never-endin’ Light of the Lord.
The never-endin’ Light of the Lord!


Details | Ballad |

A lesson from the Buddha

 A Lesson From the Buddha

The Buddha had been getting round
And listening to the crowd.
He’d often sat there silently
And heard them moan so loud
About their own sad burdens
And all the hurt they’d had.
So he thought up a little plan
That didn’t seem half bad.

He called the crowd together
Said “listen here you guys
I’ve been thinking for a great long while
And I have thought it wise
To grow a special tree for you
And here it lies before you
Now listen well to what I say
I’ll tell you what to do”

He said “this tree before you
It’s to hang your troubles on
Each one of you must go to it
And your troubles will be gone
As you hang them on it’s many branches
Then what you’ll need to do
Is take yourself some others burdens
And make them part of you”

The people thought that this was cool
It seemed a grand old way
To rid themselves of all their burdens
It was a happy day!
As each smiling so broadly
Placed there burdens on the tree
Then they thought for just a while
And they began to see.

As each the truth did hit them
More restless did they get
At least they knew their burdens
So each with no regrets
Did race back to that trouble tree
To grab what they had hung there
The Buddha smiled good humoredly
He had made them all aware.

29 July 2013 @ 1805hrs.


Details | Ballad |

THE WEARING OF THE GREEN DETAILS

On Roman ruled British isles,
   On a sunny morn
Forth century on the day of Ides  
   Our Patrick was born
To the deacon and his wife fair; 
   A beautiful morn
And priest grandfather who care’
   Their Patrick was born

He, young and bright as a button 
   This could be clearly seen
Was Patrick the lad and glutton
   Tall for his age at sixteen 
 Taken as a slave to nearby Eire 
   At tender age sixteen
by knavish raiders – this not fair
    Long time not to be seen

God visited Patrick in a dream 
    On this Emerald Isle
 When revealed to him to stream
   Patrick broke rank and file
He boarded a ship and set sail 
    left this unwelcome isle
In Britain to tell all the tale
   Then Gaul - priesthood and file

In 432, back to Eire to convert them 
   A land green with shamrock
From their polytheism to stem
   Worshiping even a rock
To explain the Holy Trinity 
   He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
   They accepted *The Rock

To explain the Holy Trinity 
   He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
   They accepted The Rock
They are wearing the Green
They are wearing the Green...

*Rock of Ages

21 January 2013


BALLAD METER


Details | Ballad |

Listen

Listen to the buzzing, in your ears,
Listen to the humming, of your fears,
Listen to the baby, crying inside,
Listen to the pleading, in your lover's eyes.
Listen to the music, you have never played,
Listen to the sinner, who's never been saved.
Listen to the empty, silence of your mind,
Listen to the whispers, of man kind.
Listen to the never, heard nor seen,
Listen to the listener, who has never been.
Listen to the monkey, you know you really are,
Listen to the wise man, who's never been that far.
Listen to the dying, crying man,
Listen to the bottle, buried in the sand.
Listen to meaning, you never really meant,
Listen to the letter, you never really sent.
Listen to the lovers, who loved another one,
Listen to the brothers, torturing their mum.
Listen to the noisy, who never say a thing,
Listen to the silent, crying deep within.
Listen to the never, ever really said,
Listen to the dead man, laying in his bed.
Listen to the flying, dying man,
Listen to the solid, only made of sand,
Listen to the night time, they told you that was day,
Listen to the meaning, they stole an took away.
Listen to the singer, who never made a sound,
Listen to the thunder, in the lightning cloud.
Listen to the voices, you never hear within,
Listen to the last train's whistle, whistling.


Details | Ballad |

Words of the master

Words of the master

A man once asked the master
Which of us has the worth?
To enter in the holy kingdom
This man was down to Earth
And liked to ask the questions
The truth he had to know
The master looked into his eyes
With a deep, and holy glow.

A Rabbi, he took note of this
He thought it would be he
For he had all the virtues
Such a holy man he be
The master looked on past this man
Till his eyes lit on a child
He called the small child unto him
And at the lad he smiled.

He took the child into his arms
And said for all to hear
Those who be like this small child
The father he holds dear
They have the worth to enter in
My father holy place
The crowd they did not understand
Confusion touched each face


These words the master spoke, were true
To find that holy place
One must re find his innocence
Re-enter each that space
That each of us were born into
Each soul must delve within
And find the joy that each did know
When their days, did first begin.

16 December 2013 @ 1310hrs.





Details | Ballade |

My religion

My religion

I’m in love with life
And I’m in love with God
I’ve lived my three score years
And mostly I have trod
An honest path with integrity
Christian values I possess
But religion I have none at all
I really must confess.

I know that God be very true
I see this all around
In the trees, the oceans, everything
And in my life I’ve found
The road that leads to happiness
For heaven walks with me
I am it, and I worship it
In hell I’ll never be.

The truth is written deep within
There be no need for books
No others words will be my truth
I just live and look
And live for now, and only now
It’s where the truth shines out
Yet truth from the mouths of priests and Popes 
Always fill me with doubt.

9 June 2014 @ 1013hrs.


Details | Ballad |

Easter Day

Easter is glorious day,
Not only to enjoy,
The candy and Easter egg hunt,
But a day,
To rejoice,
In the Lord's resurrection,
Where He gave us,
His life,
To save us from our sins,
Which we all should remember,
And charish,
Each and everyday,
Of our precious lives,
In this world,
That His Father created,
For us all to live,
And gave us a choice,
Between right from wrong,
Which is not always easy,
But if we always turn,
To the Father and the Son,
We will always find,
Them by our side,
Carrying us along the way.


Details | Ballade |

The Midnight Cry

As the sun smiled and fadeth behind the clouds
The yawning earth uncloak her beauty to the moon
Halfway through the night, a clock strikes ‘12’ too soon

Virgins carried a lamp and a vessel of oil
Eagerly waiting for the groom’s appearance
Abounding in devotion, patience and perseverance

Virgins grew weary and fell asleep, at midnight a cry was made
“Behold the Bridegroom cometh”
Here He comes and there the band of virgins goeth

Virgins begin to trim their lamp
But five neglected to watch and to pray
They never anticipated so long a delay

“Oh no! Our wasting lamps is dying out by day
Please give us of thy oil!
Please spare us a little of thy toil!”

“No! We have no oil to spare
Lest our lamps burn with dim flame
The groom is come already, lest He vent blame”

The unwise virgins were shut outside the banquet hall
They were left anguishing in gross darkness
In a night of eternal and unredeemed blackness

Both parties were taken unaware
But one was prepared for emergency
As their lamps continually glow with fervency

We are come to the last time
Let your lamps burn and not quenched
And be not a passive warmer on thy church-bench

The Poet Preacher © 2013
Command the Israelites to bring pure, pressed olive oil to you for the lamp, to keep a light burning constantly.-Leviticus 24:2







Details | Ballade |

The Abbey Garden

I once had the chance to meet 
A monk who seemed quite ascetic,
He projected no ere of conceit,
I admit to being quite the skeptic,
But I did not think his life pathetic,
He enjoys an internal reward,
For he escapes the life of the hectic,
And he draws nearer the Lord.

The monastery seemed obsolete,
Men behaving so domestic,
Walking around in bare feet,
But the garden did look majestic,
And the cheese-making I'll give credit,
The monk says not a word,
By some vow to be authentic,
And he draws nearer to the Lord.

We sat on a park bench in the heat,
He gave me a card and I read it,
Its words: Jesus—ask, knock seek,
The moment felt so electric,
Suddenly I began to get it,
His ways a monument to the God he adored,
For me, you, and the heretic,
To draw us nearer to the Lord.


Details | Ballad |

Gifts From Heaven Above

Dragonflies fly around the pond,
As the timeless moonlight gazes on the river,
And the oceans white caps coast on the beach,
Along the sunset of a beautiful day,
Of this hard day of this world's pleasures,
We take the journey of this hard day of this world's pleasure,
In this Kingdom of God,
For even with the stuggles we have,
We climb the ladders of hope,
To find the fulfillment in our hearts,
That will bring us all the happiness and joy,
And maybe one day,
To the everlasting gates where we may enter,
For the everlasting life where we may stay.


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