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Christian Animal Poems | Christian Poems About Animal

These Christian Animal poems are examples of Christian poems about Animal. These are the best examples of Christian Animal poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry | |

Little Men and the Hen

Chirp chirp chirp
Cluck cluck cluck cluck
Drivel
Snivel
Dirty little men
One insane wee little hen

Let me introduce you
To a really big huge man
A heart sent from angels
A voice lowered from the heavens
A man whose humble heart 
Can squash a 1000 little men

So when in life you see a fork in the road
Remember
You can be the Hen
Or you can be the bigger man

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dizain | |

Rising Sun

Observe how the ants labor without a peep;
Note the fine artistry of the spider's web-spinning;
Who will wake the bear from his long winter sleep?
Stand in awe of the hummingbird flapping its wings;
Listen to the lovely melody the songbirds sing;
Watch the majestic hawks leave their nests and soar;
Bask in the rising sun's heat at the ocean shore.
An invitation into God's presence  
comes from the sun, the creatures, and much more.
All of His creation emits His essence.

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Righteousness Of Love

Love is a wonder shared by one another it's the only reason I'm not six feet under Love in which I believe in a will to sustain I give back to life, now in dormant states of pain The power of Love may not alone be enough locked inside my dreams escape only from above higher than any human being has ever gone before I must have evolved rise above hate, great once more My Father taught me wisdom I am imprisoned no longer now an beast not of burden I am no lion, I am stronger on my shoulder sits twin dragons long awaiting the day evil forces come forth to take what Love is left, away A Hero of Love light are what the world needs angels, not demons exist where ever you believe follow your heart's direction and you shall achieve objects of affection rid of materialistic greed My bright energy has awakened to a fire never consuming the source as the flames just grow higher that is the desire of a product we call Love Fear, the counterpart what I was once made of I am slowly learning how to win when my peace is harder to sharpen so I have given my pen leave the sword has its uses I must say I believe to vanquish the evil in the minds too diseased to serve any purpose except their own selfish ones tomorrow a new day in the clarity of the sun where we two are now one and one done now does bring about a great change lit by the righteousness of Love.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

The tigress' mark

She prowls the night
with clenched jaw and pride,
nothing able to smite
her remorseless stride.

The ominous reflection of moon 
shines forth from devouring eyes
of a nocturnal beauty spun on the loom
of the Creator's bid and sighs.

Grace moves her every limb
and she precedes an enraged scream
caused by ruins of a forest now grim
and held alive by all but one stream.

Her claws prophesy of vengeance 
though her heart yearns for reconciliation.
Yet now there would be no leniency 
for a soul's annihilation. 

Now on journeys through lush valleys and ashes
she will embark
until all that remains after furious thrashes
will be the tigress' mark.

Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic | |

Betch Please, Really

I simply love being me for I am so good at everything step into my city and they will tell you who is King one day when I am hungry I will swallow everything then and only then shall I inherit the stuff I dream even then I promise not to settle for satisfaction at any instant half a second I could spring into full action so go against me? please, you do not even measure up to half of the goodness that I hold tight like my treasure still spreading rumors about me to try and destroy my life can't believe I let myself get beat by a stripper and my self-intended knife try and say I'm gay even though we both know that isn't the truth just ask any woman I been with if they ever needed proof they'll say I was the cream of the crop as they took it all night knowing I just may never stop I own the status of a legend now what you got left to say when I bring it twenty-four seven?

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Magik Of Love

Reflections in the mirror were getting scary I could not carry the weight of my pain it almost took my life to learn to love again for I have made a friend somewhere along my long lost way I hope that I helped him just a fraction of how he helped me maybe that single thought is what finally gave me my peace enough to release so much stolen energy Now I am not afraid to walk where the streets are hot for I thrive in Hell's kitchen where the devil stirs my pot for I now have him quiet tame I sacrificed my dragons at the alter of my name and now you are my slaves any time I need I'll call upon my superhero's to come and rescue me like my Saint Toni who swept me off that bridge and showed my how a death can be the greatest reason to live for she was the seed to grow my Eden then a man from a foreign land gave me something in myself to believe in the magik of Love.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Never So Gracious

A full moon night to my delight what is so wrong with doing what's right nothing is right after so long no use in complaining time to move on The Dream Water one day might take me away farther from the comfort of familiarity I float on my back then shut my eyes my body now sinking into ocean arms open wide Now swallow your son back to his nature when he is no longer needed to stay here the next generation are dooming themselves they need my experience to guide them through hell Why should I bother on my own, I strive through I turn my back on the thought of bothering to save you alone in this world my, is it spacious I'm finally smiling, never so gracious.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

True Love



True Love

The English language does not serve up justice to the word ‘Love’.
It allows for an unrestricted usage relative to the object of our affection.
“I love my house, and I love my car; I love my dog, and I love my cat”.

If the equity in my house rises high enough, I will sell it and buy a better one.
If my car no longer performs or I desire to have a new one, I’ll sell or trade it.
My dog stands by me, and he’s my best friend.  My cat is quiet and very comforting.

“I love my teachers, and I love my preachers: I love my parents and my siblings”.
I love my job, and I love my blue suede shoes; I love my friends and my enemies”.
I tell you, there is no end to the things that I love without much distinction.

I love my husband; I love my wife; Now hold on! This is where the red flag must fall.
This is where the defining line of true love is drawn in the sand, and here, I take my stand. There are obviously hidden meanings when it comes to “Love” in the English language.

Why did the English not confer more with the Greeks in matters of the “Love Word”?
Would my wife not be much more appreciative of a  “Love Word” from me if she knew that my choice of words was different from, let’s say those used to describe my affinity for a professional football team?  I think yes.

Anyway, I do “LOVE” my wife far more and far longer than I ‘love’ the raise I received on my job.  English is the only language I know.  So I am stuck with loving the coffee she made for me, and LOVING her with the same word.

The Greeks seemed to have had a better idea.  In the Greek, there are at least three words for “Love”.  Those words are very relevant at this point.  Phileo, Eros, and Agape express three distinct meanings of “Love”.   Phileo love is a brotherly love from which we get the English word Philadelphia.  Eros is a romantic love from which we get the word Erotic.  In Christian theology, Agape is the divine love, or God’s love for mankind.

And now a final word, especially to all of us who are married.  Here is one way to clear everything up and cover all the bases of love.  Herein lies a way to not just hit a home run, but a grand slam. Say these words to your spouse:  “Honey, let me count the ways that I love thee; my dear, believe me when I say, I love thee in the English, and I love thee in the Greek;  I Phileo you, because you are my best friend; I Eros you, because you are my only lover; and I Agape you with a love so divine. 09292015 (contest )

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2015

Details | Personification | |

Just Call Me Mr Spy

Just Call Me Mr. Spy

Hello,

I’m from an ancient world, and we have never met, and never will.
However, much like presently, in my day, people lived for the thrill.

I experienced that world’s greatest tragedy, and lived to tell the story.
I am not the bravest, smartest, or most beautiful; but I made history.

People of old loved and laughed, and also ate and drank to the fill.
They bought and sold, not worrying about who would pay the bill.

They fell in love and married; and separated, adulterated, and fornicated.
They detoured from their ancestors’ standards, and greatly deteriorated.

Yes, they were civilized sometimes, but also immoral and very violent.
It’s predicted that your world will be just like mine, before the Second Advent.

They were liberated, sophisticated, and also educated in their own way.
They were warned, but never bothered to change, until a deluge came one day.

There was an old man with a wife and three sons, who also had wives.
They worked hard and loved everybody, but also lived good and clean lives.

I know all these things because I was there, observing and raising my family.
That is, until the old man brought me and others into a big boat he built for his family.

You see, I was Noah’s raven, and was blessed to go on that world’s greatest trip.
And you can call me Mr. Spy, because I was the first one to leave the big ship. 

03042016 PS Contest, A Tomb of Ancient Bloom, Justin Bordner

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dizain | |

Frozen Out

Housemothers twain, swaddled in sorrel fur

And bustled skirts, walking ‘tween the parklands.

Brilliant cobalt sky, above cawing birds,

Who demand substance, with their harangue?

So the fostering queens proffer their alms.

 

The badelynge of ducks, on polished ice,

Lambently advance with feral affray.

As morsels of cardinal fare, entice.

The attending dames in their tender, urbane way,

Have rescued these birds from another wintry day.

Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

A Gift of Love


In Heaven’s light, a babe at peace,
the King of kings wrapped warm in fleece.
We heard the angels’ trumpets sound. 
His gift of light shone all around.
A worship song, I could not sing.
I had no gifts of gold to bring.
For I was just a gentle lamb, 
led to the town of Bethlehem.
My shepherd traveled to that place
with tears of joy upon his face.
He bowed in prayer then danced and leaped
until he heard the Christ child weep.
He saw him shivering on the hay,
met Mary’s weary eyes and prayed.
Without a word, God stirred his heart.
He sheared my wool, and filled his cart.
Then, pushed it to the stable where,
he warmed the babe with loving care.
A smile parted Mary’s lips,
and Joseph’s hand, she gently gripped. 
With glory, angels sang on high
as man and beast looked to the sky.
I had no gifts of gold to bring.
A song of praise, I could not sing,
I gave the Lord a gift of fleece.
Oh, holy babe, He sleeps in peace.


For Isaiah's Christmas with Christ Contest, 11/25/15 
  

  

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

The New God

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart beats out of your chest
Ready to consume the final climax
I know who you are - when the lyrics fail to resemble
Letting your poison drip straight from your lips
Portraying, entertaining the image of sex's delusion
You know only rape - manifestation of hate
Lack of the fruit of the beauty of a human mind
Depths you'll never penetrate!

She was only a doll - type of a lost father's adore
Impaled into a desperate whore
Shamefully out of broken safety's  choice 
She bore embryogenesis of morose
May your rusty blades caress as they please

So confront the masses with the halt of embryogenesis
Let the worship of machines be
Leg them construct us cell to cell
Nature's just in the way
Of our race of perfectly engineered machines!
The burden of conception
Surrenders to the will of
The New God
   

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2012

Details | Epitaph | |

Circus of Death

He is restless, stripes blending and then confusing the shadows of the bars of his cage
Not having eaten for three days slow, ribs show, worms beneath the tawny and grey skin
He sometimes stares at me, just for the briefest moment, and then prowls with calm rage
Awaiting his freedom, though short, and he still prowls, a storm within.

The clamour down the tunnel, the odour of the dust and sweat waft around
He stares at me again, and then prowls nearer to the bars, beating heart
Muscles tense, his head moving from side to side, shoulders alternating up and down 
Tail twitching, the tip whipping, sinuous snake and body alert, bowstring taut

A slight growl slides from his throat, anticipating what he always knows before me
From the light at the tunnels’ end, a command to loose the animals on hold
Steel doors are rammed open by me and others, the clang always making us freeze
Watching the sprint to the kneeling people in prayer, their hearts at peace, breathing the Word of God.
 

Copyright © Stuart Ackerman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Just as if I'd

rocking the boat                                                                                                -    Hey Hey what are you doing                                                                                            There is a snake

Copyright © John Beam | Year Posted 2014

Details | Kyrielle | |

JUST

 
(Kyrielle) Just look around you and see how Nature every day to God bow Angeles then gather just singing All in Heaven is rejoicing. Then just see the most peaceful light When the sun rises high at dawn bright In all its beauty sky shining All in Heaven is rejoicing. God then just blesses inside my soul And makes me feel when in trouble whole He sets all my heart on fire dancing All in Heaven is rejoicing. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 aka ladylove copyright@2014 December,05,2014

Copyright © Dorian Petersen Potter | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry | |

Fading night

As I sat on my porch

I gaze up in the sky

I see the calmness way up high


No breeze,and the sun is setting

I think of you and the smell of the pines.


I see the tall tree's so big in the night

I hear the chirps of birds so low

Night has come to all things outside



the end of morning leads to a new day

the shadows of winds so lightly they flow

seeing the  branches just take it slow

squirels scamper to hide in their beds



bugs start to roam as night takes hold

now I will sleep and dream of a land

where we can hold each other

so safe by the sand.



Written by:©Betty Bolden

Copyright © Betty Bolden | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Africa II

Little girl standing tall
High above
What told of mighty fall
The world is lost
No hope no trust
But in dark country
In to solid stone
Home is cast

Bright fiery sunsets
Vivid starlit nights
Jackal calls
Lion roar
Little girl 
At peace with world

Sun dried earth
Mighty beasts
No defeat
Just voiceless rumbles
Mighty and strong
Little girl no longer stumbles

Running wild along with beasts
Feet barely touching worldly deceit
Scorching African sun
Beating down
Freedom finally found

Little girl stares into made flames
Seeing old life old thoughts
Smiling at her untamability

Little girl standing tall
Arms outstretched
Face lifted to heaven
Drenched in new life
Sacredly touched
Finally safe
Thanking The Creator
For His amazing grace

Copyright © Fierce Malilangwe | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

My Longing Heart

I know that I
Have failed the Lord
And for that
I'm so ashamed
And only in my troubled times
Would I call upon his name

But God said
If you'll only speak to me
When trouble your way comes
Then you can rest assured my child
I'll surely send you some

I know I need
To spend more time
Down on my knees in prayer
For he said when
You call on me
I'll surely meet you there
Lord forgive me
Of my past
And the wrongful things I've done
I long so
Just to make things right
Between you and your son

For I know
That we're not promised
We will see The Morning Sun
And I don't want
To leave this world
Having left some things undone

Father make me worthy
To stand and tell the world
That I'm a god believer
And I believe His Word

He's coming in an hour
That we don't even know
And our souls will be
Required of us
O be ready friend to go

Eternity last forever
and 10 million years from now
my friend you will be somewhere
so why don't you humbly bow

To the God of heaven
he's waiting now on you
just ask Him for forgiveness
that's all you have to do

Then when it said and done
and he returns someday
he'll take you home to heaven
and there forever stay

Copyright © Sammy Lykens | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Summer

(thinking of better weather right now :)

Tranquil waves gently crashing the lake shore. 
Tight-knit family units of Canada Geese,
all on a mutual hunting mission as they coast along the choppy waters.
Various shades of green consume the surrounding hills.
Summer voices of children playing that bring back memories from another lifetime.
Just cool-enough breezes make music as they chase eachother through the trees 
and give lift-off life into the wings of cardinals, crane birds, and geese above.
Again and again they soar into the everlasting, blue sky
while reminding me to take another breath.

Only the author of the heavens could create such a beautiful, living portrait :)

Copyright © Dominic Marchio | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The Preparation of the Wise Men - the Camels

They always made me happy, 
The camels of the wise men, 
The slowness of their footsteps, 
Their self-sufficient ben. 

Camels meant there was time, 
For the three wise men to think, 
To ponder upon their task, 
To review their role as a link. 

They were required to assess, 
The child to be called god’s son, 
To see if he could be a doctor, 
To the poor, and to be the action.  

Mary and Joseph were important, 
To their question of universal worth, 
So they prepared themselves well, 
With questions surrounding his birth. 

They understood that environment, 
Is a factor in child development, 
So endeavoured to contextualise, 
The place of the baby’s commencement.  

They predicted they’d be rejected, 
By townsmen all along the way,
Spat at, maybe jousted with, 
By loitering agitators arbitrarily.

Especially at the door of the inn, 
There’d be jesters and jostlers alike, 
People shouting “Don’t go there!
Avoid them, and get on another bike!” 

And equally importantly, with respect, 
They thought of their theology, 
That their own actions may be vital, 
To improving others’ sociology. 

They considered their belief, 
In an immanently coming messiah,
And renewed their vow to choose,
A protege who would take us higher. 

So by the time they reached the inn, 
They were very much prepared, 
They could talk to each other freely, 
About the saviour that’d been blared. 

And the camels facilitated all this, 
Preparation and consideration, 
And gave the magi their pondering, 
Upon seeing the configuration. 

They enabled this baby to thrive, 
Gave his family his manifestation,
And felt spent entirely at their visit, 
Worn out by careful deliberation. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

A Greener Pasture

Though my stall here is empty now
If you listen close...
You can hear me running through a greener pasture
Your sorrow opens the gate and releases me free
Thank you for rescuing me from worldly darkness
And giving me love unsurpassed
So that I may now run with others so loved...
But never forgotten
I am a child again young and lean my spirit afire
And oh how our spirits thrive here
Never again to feel the pain of the earth
Hear me running!
For your tears have watered the grasses for me
In God's Greener Pasture

-originally written for Kae Surrah
 an Arab rescue mare

Copyright © Chris Hagy | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Introducing Me


Who am I really? Who does everyone think I am,                                            and what do they think I’m really like?                                                                 Do I even know?  Stay tunnnnned.

I was a newborn in ‘49 in a home within a mile of Highway 49
There was no doctor; but a midwife arrived on time, nice and kind.
My weight was 10 lbs.; and I have reached 165 in 66 years of time.

I didn’t go astray; and I’ve done my best to walk the narrow line.
Old people said, “Be good so you don’t go where the sun don’t shine.
Anyway I respect everyone, and I serve notice on any who disrespects me.

O I have over time exceeded the speed limits, and ran a few stop signs.
My folks attended a Church in the neighborhood known as True Vine.
I’m not perfect, but I’ve never  been accused of being a liar or hypocrite.


People called me “a good boy” when I was a kid growing up.
But there was always something inside the me that they could never see.
They never knew the deprived, the denied, and the underprivileged me.

My grandma was my best friend who taught me love; and man she was tough.
My next best friend came along when daddy gave me Jack, my first little pup.
He was the best, boldest, fastest, and loved to ride in daddy’s pickup truck.

By grace I’ve done good like we all should, and never committed a crime.
I don’t smoke, drink, or dope; but I’m a sinner saved by God’s grace alone.
I believe in forgiveness and not “an eye for an eye”; but please don’t ignore me.
04012016  PS Contest, Who Are You?, by Catie Lindsey

Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

At the Darkest Hour

Vividly, I remember that inspiring midnight winter vision, from years ago,
I stood transfixed, gazing on a dream like world, through my front window.
Billions of diamonds reflected rainbow colors from street lights; God"s design.
A 'whispering' opened my soul's ready ear, like the beauty of wind chimes;
"Though your sins be as scarlet, they'll be white as that fresh driven snow."
A dog, breaking the peaceful spell with whimsical antics, leaped through.

Copyright © Charlene McCutcheon | Year Posted 2016

Details | Heroic Couplets | |

Jesus Came Riding On A Donkey

Donkey’s in the land of Israel in the 1st century, 
Were used to carry goods about the country, 
But could also carry women, children and the ill, 
Because they were strong and quiet, did chill. 

So when Jesus entered Jerusalem on that day,
On the Sunday before his crucifixion, away, 
He deliberately chose a donkey to ride on, 
To communicate effectively, with abbreviation. 

A donkey was premium to the professions, 
The areas industry’s for selling productions, 
Which depended on donkeys for transportation, 
For their future and reputation’s momentum. 

So Jesus was saying by riding that donkey, 
That he was key to the wave that they did see, 
That how his death was remembered, thought, 
Would determine the legacy that he’d wrought. 

Also, he assumed a sensitivity by that ride, 
A vulnerability that he had and he felt inside, 
Because he took the place of a fragile person, 
Suggesting that memories were your liaison. 

So he won and achieved a triumphant entry, 
Because he proclaimed himself Christianity, 
And that, just like a child, he needs lifted up, 
Onto the donkey, where there’s a warm cup. 

Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad | |

Morfil Gwr

Ionah: first


(Morfil Gwr (Whale man).





Angry winds tore at the sails of the distressed little ship
Waves crashed and harried intent on destruction
Below he hid shaking with fear and loathing
Begging to be cast into the storming broiling waters
To escape the eyes and voice in his head.

Remembering how he stood at the edge of the dock
Watching tides swirl in and out with hypnotic intent
Fear in his mind forcing him to flight
Away he ran trying to feel unnoticed and small
Still he was found no peace for his plight.

Down he sank into the maelstrom deep lives saved
By his supposed good deed mind going blank
Down he went ,down he sank
To the depths he fell cold and black
Welcome death he cried his body slack.

Out of the deep with jaws open wide he came
Great fish of the deep, sifting the sea, Morfil by name
And swallowed the man his grief, anger and all
Shaking with anger tears streaking his face
Admitting defeat asked to be restored to his place.

With a great gush of vomit spewed onto the beach
Found him gasping as air filled his lungs
Grudgingly yet he ventured into the city
Looking at all his eyes full of pity
And they flocked to hear the words that he spoke.

Out to the wastes with anger in his heart
Leaving the people and city behind
Angry with them and the creator
Hiding away like some spoiled child
Under the searing heat of mid day sun.

Yet then the creator saw and loved the man still
Despite his tantrums and anger within
Sent help to feed and shade his head
And still the man asked and wished he was dead
“Why Me” was the song that he continued to sing.


Andrew P McIntyre                                                   2012.

Copyright © Andrew McIntyre | Year Posted 2016