Limerick Spiritual Poems | Limerick Poems About Spiritual
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Scripture asks us to love our neighbor.
But some think love comes without labor.
It's something we speak,
Not something we seek.
A fine cup of wine with no flavor.
Declarations of love make me laugh.
Without knowledge such words are just chaff.
You say I love you,
But that isn't true,
'Til you've traveled that ship, fore and aft.
A neighbor is a gem in a box,
Which is freely displayed without locks.
But when you decide
To not look inside,
Your love goes no deeper than the box.
It's the heart that defines who we are.
And you cannot love that from afar.
You have to dig in,
Look under the skin,
It takes patience to open that jar.
Any love less than this is a lie,
Just a superficial lullaby.
When you won't connect,
It's sung for effect,
A performance arranged for the eye.
In God's kingdom, would this be your goal -
To have neighbors without heart or soul?
Should we love your grace,
Or only your face?
For a love without depth isn't whole.
If make believe love has sufficed,
Then your love is improperly priced.
Rewards one receives,
Show what he believes,
When such love has been offered to Christ.
For as you've loved the least of His flock,
Those empty faces there on your block,
That's how you love Him,
A name in a Hymn,
It's a church built on mud, not on rock.
So before He meets us at the gate,
Learn this lesson before it's too late.
Love's ultimate goal,
To open the soul,
Is a truth that determines our fate.
Three Atheist limericks
for April Fools' Day 2006
Dear Mrs. Schiavo: Goodbye.
Dear Mrs. Schiavo: Goodbye.
Fifteen years was a long time to die.
Your husband was brave
To withstand the wave
Of inedible pie in the sky.
Why San Diegans remove Crosses from public Land
The SD City Council must hold strong:
Those mountaintop Christians are wrong.
Crucifixion's the sign
Of insensitive minds
Not the Native Americans' song.
Dear Judeo-Christian God:
Your behavior's exceedingly odd.
You let Hitler misbehave
Then killed thousands with waves
And can't keep your priests' hands off kids' bods!
Trilling Tray (Limerick)
Parrots have men in the palm of their hands
Through the pirated palimpsest that is from man's land
There is no point getting into panic about the tall story
Touch me if it is a wild and wacky story
But if it is worthwhile to the core, (then) hold my hands.
O grand and gracious Jehovah
Grand Author of creation
Source of my inspiration
Cage me within the shade of your umbrella
Accept my pleas for forgiveness
Allow me dwell in your blessedness
Protect me as I sleep
Like a shepherd would his sheep
O wise and merciful One
You sacrificed your only son
For my sake to prove a point
A point being the joint
Between creator and creation
Love me Lord in the name of your son.
There once was a kid who was green
the greenest green frog far cousins had seen,
yet to others his green behaved like a prince
but which creatures saw which did not matter since
this frog prince thought one without other obscene.