I stand on the snow covered mountain
Colorful vase of flowers
Slopes with flower beds laden
I saw the snow lotus flowers
I asked, “Why are you all alone here?
Beauty is meant to be adored.
Should give yourself to somebody
Before your petals fall to dust soon, dear.
What if I crushed your petals, I asked
As at these heights, you are quite lonely”..
One of the flowers quickly responded
“I enjoy the shelter of blue skies.
I would be too glad
If you choose to crush my petals
My fragrance will spread everywhere.
Fulfilling the purpose and duty
If destroyed, not admired.
By plucking my petals, remember
You won’t gather my beauty,
Beauty is to see, not to be plucked'.
“O’ lotus, you teach wisdom to man
Praise her beauty, don’t destroy her.
It is the gladdest thing under the sun
Touch a hundred flowers not pick ever”
O’ man, pluck not wayside flower even
It is the traveler’s dowers.
Silently a flower blooms alone
And in silence it falls down
If I am worth many pleasures,
I think I am too few then”.
June 15, 2014
Form : Ode
First Place win in
Contest: My favorite poem by Carol Eastman
Form: Ode (the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode)
Rhyme scheme: ABABCDECDE (Ten lines)
Second place winner in
Contest: Ode sponsored by Jared Pickett
This is the English Ode, also called the Homostrophic or Horatian Ode.
The Romantic Ode often followed the Irregular Ode's structure
and the Homostrophic Ode's meditative quality.
The poem also won the second place in the International Poetry
Contest of 2011 by Poetry Soup.
Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2010
She showed me the clouds
and how to walk on the ninth one. A dreamer.
In the absoluteness of her mind, no barriers
exist within existence
as if her battles have
been won. I think she craves to fly,
past those clouds---another possibility
to make possible, a challenge
to challenge. Or dream about.
She probably thinks that when I complain
I cannot see the clouds,
the way she did when things got rough
in life. Of course, I beg to differ.
She dreams. I live. I don't
keep my eyes on clouds all day
as if there is nothing else to see
to make me understand the world better.
I suppose I'll rest one day, exhausted
by the what-ifs and whys, while Mama smiles
and points upward.
Copyright © Nikkia Roberts | Year Posted 2014
When I sit still and calmly read the works of Poets True
It is nice to know I'm not alone because of all of you
There are stories being told here in such different forms and ways
We have happy times, some joy and pain, and some for special days
There are some who write in Haiku, there are those who love Quatrain
We have those who write sweet Sonnets telling us about the rain
But we also have some Poets True who write as though they sing
With a Rhyme Royal or Limerick that will cause your ears to ring
How about the Free Verse Poets and the Funny Poets too
Those Acrostics and the Metaphors that can help the sun shine through
There are Ballad Poems and Lyrics truly wonderful to find
And the Epic Poems and Tanka's that will stir things in your mind
On a quiet night with softened light we'll read an Ode or two
Or a Villanelle or Couplet that someone has shared with you
What about those Nature Poets who can rhyme about the Earth
How the flowers grow in colors even different kinds of dirt
We have those who write of waterfalls; and sounds that fill the air;
Of deep mysteries and great mercies that reveal how we should share
Some are Kyrielles and Kwansabas that find their way to you
Those Alliteration Poets can help you think of things to do
We have Poets True from nations far that share the things they see
There are dreamers here with mighty words that say we can be free
We read Love Poems so sweetly said they cause your heart to melt
They will talk of Love lost or Love found that's truly deeply felt
Well, I could go on forever speaking of the Poems found
Here on Poetry Soup with you and these true treasures that abound
But I guess I'll stop and thank you all for sharing what you do
And I'll say right here that we are blessed - We all are Poets True!
Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2014
The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
( Based on a true incident captured in my Camera )
I was in a mood to sing, and
The Peacock was in a mood to dance,
My singing came, while watching the beauty and
The beauty started unfolding its wings and charms,
As if the Peacock was listening the songs,
I was singing, silently in my mind.
Oh, what a joy it was to feel and share,
Those wonderful moments
I spent with that beautiful bird,
Who kept dancing and dancing,
Till the song continued in my mind silently.
You and I may not be dancing or living forever, O, bird,
But the image, which you have engraved on my mind and
The rhythms of that joy and pleasure,
Which you have left,
Would continue to generate always,
The music of silence and beauty in every mind.
Kanpur India 28th December 2011
NOTE:IMP. NOTE: The Memories of a Dancing Peacock
The Photo Poem cum Song is also on my Music Channel
"RavindraKK1" on U Tube. or you simply use this URL
For my Videos Songs on My U Tube just write on Google "RavindraKK1
and go on U Tube Channel - RavindraKK1
Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2011
Out on the porch for a little recess
From life's daily chores, listen to raindrops
Pitter-patter, musical sounds request
From gentle breeze, which stirs windchimes non-stop
Nature's orchestra plays as in hammock relaxed lay
A novel to read or just nap away
Afternoon quietly, what more pleasure
Maybe do something risque
Meet with lover, love away rainy day
In deep caresses our love we'll measure
The flame will burn higher as our desire
Rises with each kiss and loving caress
As the rain's rhythm sets mood, love's red fire
Glows as love to each other we confess
Romancing to rain's music dance and sway
Raindrops, roses, love's desire only glows
Lover so glad you could be companion to
Maybe do something risque
As on the love seat, inflamed we repose
Not needing love potion our love to renew
Lover so glad that I met you today
Out on porch listening to rain's rhythm
Stirring music in my soul fears allay
Perfectly matched love's biorhythm
There are now no fears or life's dismay
Love come take me away to higher realm
Come, stay, don't just wait life's rainy day to
Maybe do something risque
Hold, caress, don't wait 'til life overwhelms
Love come stay please don't ever bid adieu
Contest: An Ode To Small Comfort On a Rainy Afternoon
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2012
your belief system is the major indication
of what you can accomplish with positive validation
if you can see it, you can achieve
if you can perceive it, you can believe it
underachievers are always underestimating themselves
non-achievers are always looking for a handout and the most help
average achievers do only what is usually just required
but overachievers strive to realize their heart's desire
in The Bible Mark 6:5-6 are two of the saddest scriptures to me
it tells of the time when Jesus went to His birth place
to spread His Father's ministry
it is somewhat troubling to me when He could find there no relief
because the Nazarenes were in a mind set of utter unbelief
even though He had worked many miracles
in most every town he had ventured to
the citizens of Nazareth were unwilling to give Him His proper due
a showdown in Nazareth, Jesus trying to evangelize God's word
but they saw Him only as the carpenter's son attempting to do the absurd
the power of God can only manifest in an arena of positivity
it can not gown nor gravitate in an atmosphere of negativity
Jesus was rendered powerless, the passion in Him had subsided
because the unbelieving Nazarenes remained unyielding
and completely one-sided
there is a significant amount of unbelief
in many church congregations
where some are just sayers of the Word
and don't believe in the power of the consecration
it takes one drop of negativity
to yield a whole crop of unbelieveability
understand that the Living God can't work in anyone's life
if they are in a state of mind clouded by negativity and strife
there is nothing that can't be accomplished if you know this in your heart
that God can work miracles just believe in His powers from the start
for God can move mountains, He can make a river divide
His powers are omnipotent, just keep a positive attitude in mind
don't undermine God's purpose for you life, allow Him some control
don't underestimate what He can do for you, if you surrender to Him your soul
always look for the victory, don't settle for defeat or loss
use the power of your belief, the power of the blood, the crown and the cross
if you believe God can open doors
what more could you ask for
just believe with God that you can do it
just trust in Him and let Him prove it
just believe in the power that is Jesus Christ
and imagine what you can accomplish
if you just let Him work in your life
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007
I am woman,
I am Woman,
I am Woman,
I am Woman,
Fear me because I am:
Pretty, sassy, smart, independent!
Fear me because these things
Are a danger mix and explosive combination
Fear me because one day
You'll have to answer to me.
Fear me because soon you'll look up
For advice and I'll be the face there.
Fear me because to you
Women should have no power.
Fear me because to me
I will have more power than you.
I am a woman,
I am a Woman!
Copyright © Chyrelle Woods | Year Posted 2005
The ladder backed pecker,
like a prison uniform.
Caught-up in exposing
the truth beneath the bark,
of the poet's apple tree.
We prefer ourself in spring;
with tiny little flowers,
and the fruit of possibility.
Yet, if not for the woodpecker,
tapping holes into poems,
we might not ever see
the flesh and blood of raw meat.
I will climb that ladder back,
escape pre-decreed standards.
Tap into that syrupy mixture
and suck-out truth from hard wood.
Yes, lessons from a jail bird.
A pest in the Avian Kingdom.
Wisdom from the little rebel,
beat-out of a tree.
Copyright © Dean Walker | Year Posted 2006
Will I Recognize… The Face Of Love?
Or the Wonderful, Bedazzled Appearance of:
A Moon-kist Meadow, Hushed and Dark
A Solitary Silhouette, this Beauty Mark,
Windswept Grasses, like a Babe’s Soft Lashes
Rippling across Earth, that’s smooth as a Cheek.
In the Hushed and Flowery Scented Air…
Your Face of Love Materializes, Silvery, Full
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
From the Face of Love … Will I Withdraw?
The Face of Love without Any Flaw;
As a Canopy of Clouds with the Splendor of Sunbeams
Piercing past the fluffy powder of Heaven, to Radiate Gleams
A Classical Cameo-Sculpture, Perfect Profile Structure
Yea… in the Bright Beacons, I see Your Smile
In the Illumed, Clear Sky, ‘Your Face’
Can Love’s Face be Touched … Attainable?
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable.
The Face of Love … I Have Visualized,
Potent, Breathtaking, The Vision Rised;
From a Sunlit Lake, Winking as Would Diamonds.
Your Face of Love, Emerging from Far Beyond
The Depths of the Lake, as My Heart Quaked,
because of the Wavering Portrait’s Peace
because of Water-Color Caresses.
That Face of Love, was so Tangible.
The Face of Love … so Unforgettable
The Face of Love … has Gazed Upon
Dreams of Mine, the World’s Not Known
… Out of the Woodland’s Emerald Mist
With Drops of Dew, Love’s Face Kissed
The Framing Boughs; My Relaxed Brow.
Floating… Breathing out the Mist of Morn Light
That I may Sketch Your Face of Love, in Life.
The Face … More Handsome, than Sons of the Womb, is Possible…
The Face of Love … is Unforgettable
(For A Medieval-Tongued Poet, I Found Here at The Soup...
Ismael Nieves, this one's for you Kiddo
Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009
Her eyes showed me a way,
Her unique smile let my tears go away,
Her Beautiful face made me to say,
Is this Love, or what???
Started to have feeling of love,
Started to behave nicely and different,
Started to smile when there was no reason to smile,
Still, Is this Love, or what??
Tried to approach her, but felt belittled, lowly, shy,
Tried to ask her for date, but felt afraid, scared, shocked,
Tried to express my love, felt would be rejected, hurt, unheard,
Well still, Is this love, or what?
I can fix anything, why not this thing,
I can talk to any girl, why not this girl,
I can really convince anyone, why not this one,
Came before many girl, why not this girl.
Do please not tell me its just nothing,
Do tell me how to do something about this thing...Love,
Do tell me anything about this thing…Love,
Will there be rejection or appreciation??????????
Copyright © B S Sky | Year Posted 2013
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that reaches for the highest of heights.
I use the clouds as a helpful step to rest my feet as I reach.
Stretching my arms up high, trying to grasp a hold of the stars.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that struggles through the thistles and thorns.
Reaching forward, eyes tearing up as I bleed for the light that will soon be mine.
I use the light's rays as motivational beams, urging me forward.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one who fights through the ridicule and puns.
I fly through the maze of the bombardment of insults and put downs, straight to my prize.
I use the tormenting words as encouragement to later prove them wrong.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am the one that searches for truth.
I wander through a world of lies and tricksters as they try to make me lose focus.
Discovering traps and evading paths of lies by evaluating them with logic and reason.
With every lie evaded, I inch closer to the truth.
Call me the dreamer of dreams.
I am that one, the one who dreams.
For without dreams I am nothing, but a human with no purpose.
And when my dreams are reached, the scars I will wear proudly.
For the struggles I had faced will stand as validation to how much my dreams are worth.
Copyright © Joshua Torres | Year Posted 2012
Love you are powerful
your power is so strong
every one bows to you
every lover seek you
every human need you
in their life to be happy
Just a touch of your hand
can heal a wounded soul
your gentle voice soothes
the ache and pain of a shattered life
sometimes your flame can burn and bruise
but your tenderness is a balm that cures and mends the broken
No one can escape from your embrace
you keep stirring and raging
till your demands are followed
you melt and soften the hardest heart
and warmed it again after feeling cold for so long
You treat everyone alike whatever their stature in life
be they king or slave, master or servant, rich or poor
they feel the same emotions under your shadow
your beguiling ways and beauty ensnares
the timid, the bold, the proud and faint hearted
You bewitch and put them under your spell
and make them follow you wherever you lead
you are fair and just and knows no differences
you cross social boundaries of color and religion
and merge them together under your wings
Love you are a gift of life
that spring from the beginning of time and creation
you are divine and eternal and forever
ever blooming like a rose in all seasons
in the garden of life that dwells in the heart
You bring joy and beauty to life
by giving meaning and purpose to existence
everything fades away but not you
you are ever present to give hope
your light shines and burns eternally
You are a beacon that beckons
every wanderer who are lost in this journey
and every seeker who tries to pursue you
your path leads to all the the riches of life
that only the heart knows and understands
Whoever have you in his life
has found the real treasure
that material things can never replace
you are the essence of life the core of every being
love how can one live without you?
Copyright © Nudershada Cabanes | Year Posted 2015
In a dark room music plays with a slow beat,
the neon lights make you white panties and bra look like a street.
You move your body slowly and so sexy to the music,
while i look at you threw the darkness of the room set.
A big silver gun on my hip and a mountain of coke on the table,
and nothing can distract me from the beauty i see dancing so stable.
Your every move hypnotizes me,
I think I am going blind cause i am beginning not to see.
I look at your hair how it waves there so perfectly,
your legs move just like i want them to, so delicately.
You touch your breasts and you hold your but,
you give me that look in your eyes like your not wanting to stop.
You unbutton your bra and cover your breasts with your palms,
the music dies down a little and calms.
You walk up to me and than music begins to play,
that's when you start moving your body on top of me and asking me to stay.
You kiss my ear and rub my legs,
your breast rub against my inner pains.
You feel me harder than a rock,
than you decide to grind my cock.
Your body moves so sexy and slowly to the music that i played,
my body is shaking from all the excitement that is payed.
You go in for the big finish, and i tell you to get back up,
cause a lady like you should do all that kind of crap.
Be with me, be with a BOSS,
Who cares if the people i killed ever took a loss.
Dedicated to all the woman of the world.
PS: You are not trash, you are not ......... you are precious jewels. Stay that way ladies. I love you all.
Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2012
LOVE AND DEATH
Love is a thing which perches in soul
and never dies for those who parts
forever and dies reluctantly for all
those who deal it with dull verve hence finally retards.
Its intensity can never be matched
by any way, any sense or any being
the loveliness of soul which initially hatches
in eyes and finally lead to an undying thing.
The iniciated feeling kisses the eye and lead
the body to shiver and form an never ending joy
joy which increases with senses and feed
the soul with luxury of peerless eyes and soothing joy.
When eyes fall on thine god, a material being
a wave travel from eyes to soul
and leave us shocked and lead us to drowse in feeling
of the cosmic one more beauteous, pretty then all.
A word from her soft coloured lips is treat
for your soul and finally try to speak
to that elf, an everlasting meet
in your brain did relive forever and make thee week.
But when you have conversed enough and all
secrets did revealed, the enthusiasm, the joy, the love
starts to retard and mighty love starts to fall
and fall all thy passions, thy deity thine happy dove.
Your drowsing in happy feeling, thine everlasting thing
decrease by degrees, you being unknown
the thing which use to shiver thine ere being
your love dwindles while thine body had grown.
But after ages when ye become pallid and calm
its assistance ye need or when you lay in despair
in this material world, it seems the only balm
which provide thee love and care.
A never ending charm an ethereal soul
which lift the mortal man from dying and and taking birth
and make life and death traveling journey for all
except those in whose nature there is love's dearth.
Copyright © Akash ripper | Year Posted 2014
When I looked at you last week trying on your new boots
Those almond eyes sparkling at something new, a gift
I saw my little pink girl, a princess, playing dress up again
Your long hair draped your high cheekbones
Life still a game, tinged with drama and theatre
As you look for fun in all your pursuits!
A player in life with a passion for cooking and music
You have become a kind, loyal, vivacious young woman
Self assured, grounded with a love of tradition
I looked at you and felt an overwhelming pride.
Sunday’s child is ' bonny, blithe, good and gay' they say
Befitting my Sabbath girl, a model child of few demands
Your bedroom a vast sea of Barbie and friends
A Passion for story-time and books
Your Dutch life with Irish sea-touched roots,
You are a real continental
A great scholar with degrees in Law and Psychoanalysis
You have found your true love with Luis, a Spaniard
As you both prepare to leave the Emerald Isle
I wonder at the achievement of you!
Copyright © Eiken Laan | Year Posted 2011
It seems the angels were singing a song,
And their melody pleased God’s ears;
Singing of to whom such love belong,
They could subdue all pain and fears.
He asked them about who became
Possessed of a kind of love so grand.
He was told of the sweetest mortal name
That ever satisfied the hearts of man.
The dear name “Mother” God then heard,
It giving sound to the throb of His heart,
As if such a title was that preferred,
And such a figure so honored in classic art.
My own dear mother was second to none,
And enjoys her deserved Elysian rest.
Thus since down from heaven came the Son,
Her role and function is eternally blessed.
Copyright © Albert Price | Year Posted 2011
She was a devoted ole gal always at her best
so many days I cried hanging off her chest
down to the lake in the hot summertime
we would cool her off and swing on a vine
Every morning at five am here came Belle, now my friend
and again at six pm there Belle was ready to work again
years passed and Belle became a part of our family
we worked, we played, and we milked twice a day
Half my life she was one of my dear friends
I greeted her in summer with warm sun burnt skin
and in winter I spent my time warming them
when Belle died I can't say things were ever the same again
Belle had become more than a cow in a pen, who gave us milk
she became a babysitter, a circus act, part of the swim team, for the neighborhood
but most of all Belle had become a lonely teen's dear friend
Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012
KG, the "Big Ticket"
as you are fondly called
every game you bring it
playing so fierce and so bold..
From high school sensation
to NBA superstar
an MVP recognition
and a 10-time All-Star..
Filling up the stats
and lighting up the scoreboard
with each board, dime, swipe, swat,
and every hoop that you score..
The talent, the leadership,
the aura, the appeal,
the whole package, you have it
plus all those endorsement deals..
An outstanding contributor
on and off the court
a citizenship award winner
the community you support..
One of the greatest ever
but still without a ring
soon you'll get what you deserve
and be hailed champion, a king..
Copyright © Rany Fortuno | Year Posted 2006
In the small town of Campbell Missouri,
A young girl with lovely brown locks
Sits, having been told she might never walk again
As all aknowledge this belief in town,
A fear swept around,
And many children were kept down
But in the spirit of this child,
Desire to walk snuck over her fears
Perhaps she wished to surprise-
Perhaps she could not stand
The judgmental eyes-but all the same,
She picked herself up, smiled,
And sauntered around the room
Happiness pervaded the house
As the family friend, delighted,
Sang merrily the song,
“Have You Ever Seen a Dream Walking?”
Today, at California Mission Inn,
The same girl, now a woman
Walks her glorious walk
With confidence and grace
She is 91 years old and strong
Her eyes lighting up as she recalls
She hums the dreamy tune
As I jot down miracles
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014
I am the soul created by my creator
I am the brightest star that shines above
I am the moon that gives light in darkest night
I am the humble soul,innocent child and loyal friend
I am the beauty ,I am the beast
I am the humble child of mother earth
Good companion to nature
Trustworthy soulmate of my partner
I am the soul full of emotion
I am the soul full of love
I am the soul I take caution
I am what I imagine
I am a bird with wings
I fly,I fly and I keep flying
No matter how exhausted I am
My wings gives me freedom to be myself
I move mountains,I am strong
I am the bold and I am beautiful
I cherish my life as who I am
I am a women of its kind
I am who I chose to be
I am what I am,I am who I am.
Copyright © bandana basnett | Year Posted 2015
I sat and wonder how the world has become,
For we’re all sinners in this world,
But the only thing that set us apart from this rust dust we breathe…
It is the way we rise up through this dust filled with many dirt,
For we are all sinner in this world, in this place of so much hate,
Keep on climbing these hills of holiness,
For you might nev’r know god might be impressed?
In this world of so many wonders,
In this world of so many wonderful tears,
In this world of so many sorrows,
Keep on climbing these painful hills,
For you might nev’r know how beautiful the deck might be after the pain?
Keep on climbing and climbing these hills,
For you might nev’r see beyond the deck of this pain if you’re not trying?
In this hopeless world a mother has to die a child has to wear an image of an old,
In this hopeless world, the tomb became a mother to a child,
In this hopeless world love slips away,
For we’re all travelers in this world, invaders, intruders,
In this world of so many sorrows,
Keep on climbing and climbing these painful mountain valleys,
For you might end up feeling comfortable to stumble through the deck of this pain,
This hopeless world took my mother,
This hopeless world took my child,
And this hopeless world the critic has become my friend,
Hopeless world, hopeless world…
I’ve been here many times before,
But every time I sit in front of this world,
I often wonder why there is no door of a smile, peace and happiness,
I’ve been here many times before,
Standing and longing to see the shadows become colorless,
And every piece of breath i draw, become an art to decorate my tomb,
I’ve been here many times before standing across this hopeless world,
Watching and watching as good days become a dawn in the hell,
And every piece of breath I drew through the face of this world,
Become a history to read in tears,
And every moment that passes away,
Become a samber to a dancer filled with pain,
In this hopeless world, the love is no more,
Only stitches that art our hearts to keep us connected with our lord,
End of poem 3
Copyright © Damane pusetso lionel | Year Posted 2014
Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu.
Dedicated to Leonora
A unique and lovely
damsel from the heavens.
Love you so much.
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
the land was valued at $240, where they built "the little church on the hill"
established by a group of abolitionists and free blacks for they knew that was God's will
they named it Berean Baptist and its congregation was integrated
but after only a short time the membership separated
the church continued to prosper for the members were godly inspired
they would not let anything keep them down not even those two fires
the congregation would continue to rebuild for their faith could not be pricked
they got smart and moved two blocks over and erect a church made out of bricks
it was a little chapel yet membership would continue on the up swing
the church needed more room, so they then added on two wings
from Dr. Brown to Drs. Matthews, Eldridge and the Rev. Dr. James
anointed men of God who helped Berean establish a good name
from Rev. Roman and now Dr. Griffith with their powerful evangelistic ministries
and after 157 years Berean is a great church with a lasting and living legacy
and with the Lord's continued blessings, His mercy and His grace
The Historic Berean Baptist Church will always be the place
where anyone and everyone can come to get godly inspiration
for Berean is the church that will set on the path to salvation
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007
a portrait is a picture or a likeness of an object, person or place
a rendering, a representation of something in all of its grace
but a portrait of a Pastor is more than just a facade
it's not an image of what man thinks but a reflection of God
people come with their own agendas about what a Pastor should portray
but it's not his clothes nor his cars it's the message from God he conveys
a Pastor should be pictured as a faithful speaker who reveals the truth in his speech
an under shephard of our Lord Christ and it's the Gospel that he'll preach
a Pastor should be drawn as a mentor to his members and circumspect in his behavior
a prayer partner in conjunction with the Holy Spirit and Jesus our Savior
a Pastor should be an image of one who comforts all in their times of need
a teacher of the Gospel who in his flock tries to plant God's righteous seeds
a delineation of an obedient servant leader who stands firmly on God's Holy word
and he should not be the subject of gossip nor the pettiness of this world
a portrait of a Pastor should be a comment on his spiritual calling
an anointed man whom God will use to catch us when we've fallen
a portrait of a Pastor should be an exhibit of compassion, wisdom and respect
a display of leadership, kindness, humility and intellect
it should be a picture of a potter who tries to mold us into godly shape
a silhouette of a counselor who doesn't judge but advises when we make mistakes
a portrait of a Pastor should be a reflection of the image of our Lord Christ
a man who will always allow the Holy Spirit of God guide and rule his life
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2010
I wished to improve on my character so,
I looked for a model to go by.
I studied the habits of men great and tall,
For one who seemed perfect in my eyes.
Men of fine profile and manly physique,
Were the first ones to cross my inspection,
First also dismissed for their physical charms,
Seemed all they had worth admiration;
And those who had money and power were wont,
To flaunt their importance and style,
An hour or two in this comp'ny could last,
A person a long, long while;
And so I explored yet another route,
The highway to high education,
Perhaps here I would find the virtuous man,
One worthy of my adulation.
I read through the tomes of scholars and scribes,
Philosophers, poets and statesmen,
And I never found a doctrine more sound,
Than the one left behind by Ben Franklin.
1706 - 1790
A statesman and scientist he was also quite a philosopher.
He was considered to be one of the most important figures of his day having been given
the dubious honor of being asked to sign the Declaration of Independence along with many other great men of that era; making him one of our Founding Fathers.
In doing so he showed great courage because all who signed had a price placed on their
heads by the Crown of England for treason.
He spent his life in search of knowledge continuously trying to improve himself.
He had the ability to see and recognize his own faults and tried to do something about them. That is something not many people can do. It's also the reason he had few if any real enemies.
A person could do a whole lot worse than to try to imitate his style.
Copyright © Judy Ball | Year Posted 2012
What they've done to Gary is just plain scary. Global elites shut him up.Of their wicked ways, be wary. It is all in all,everything that they do,to try and scare me, to try and scare you. If they get their way,we'll all be shakin' in our shoes. If they can make us fear enough,they think they'll never lose. For fear is their currency of delight,presses working over-time, ever in the night. Where their dark secrets lurk,hiding from the light. With it they purchase hearts and minds, ultimately souls as their grand prize, To offer up to lucifer, in a scheme of grand demise. So take heart my friend and fear naught,but the Lord. This is wisdom's beginning, God's word, shield and sword. Of this one thing be ever so aware, that those who hold God's spirit, they can not scare or make them slaves to the prince of the power of the air. We, who stand with Gary, will remain strong and bold. Always doing what is right, not necessarily what we are told. It is our one path to victory and bringing freedom home. Home, where our love dwells. Home. Dear, sweet home.
Copyright © John Carrier | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
I could write about the white man and everything he’s done
or I could write about the black man
and all the victories he’s won
I could write about a person of every stereotype
but thats just a hype
and judgings not right
I could write about racism
and all the civil wars
or I could write about a place where hate is no more
I could write about a place where all individuals
are not solely based on ancestral residuals
No more colors, races, or creeds,
Just helping our neighbors with everything they need
This is the Dream that Dr. King had,
To stop looking at skin color,
would that be so bad,
I could write about how things will always stay the same,
or I could write to make a difference,
And be the one to start the Change
Copyright © Tasia Burns | Year Posted 2014
Immortal language of
Soul of my soul
Breath of my breath
Heart of my heart
Mind of my mind,
Close to your enchanting bosom
Let me forever be,
Not even for a moment
Able am I to live
Without your inspiring
12 January 2013
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2013
The were the three Magi with mantels and beards, traveling
on strong camels as far as Bethlehem and having
seen a wondrous star, they began their long journey
by bringing precious gifts, but they warned Joseph and Mary
of Herod's malicious intent...so they fled to Egypt
on a donkey that never complain of a sore hip!
They believed in the Savior as Herod himself full of pride,
and being very wise, they never returned
to tell him what kind of child they had found!
They brought their gifts and knelt at a child
whose fate as foretold was to die for us all,
and he gladly accepted them hearing His Father's call!
Not having heard from the Wise Men who had lied to Him,
Herod sent his soldiers to kill all children under three: screams terrorized Bethlehem;
no, they weren't moved by their mother's painful cry
and shedding their innocent blood they revenged that lie!
O mothers of Bethlehem, Jesus knew that they were slaughtered because of Him!
O mothers of Bethlehem, you wept and moaned as they bled as a sacrificial lamb!
They believed in the Savior from what they had read,
and wanted to see for themselves the glorious event that Daniel spoken of:
the brightest star shining over Bethlehem as angels sang,
announcing Christ's birth in a small town groping on a hill of citrus and clove!
Written on December 16, 2012
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2012
On Grandma’s bedroom wall hung pencil sketches
To inspire me and draw me in, never fail
The hands in prayer our daily blessing fetches
The cuffs rolled back, work ready, in the detail
The fingerprint motif of light on hands
To give us notice we are unique – and His
Strong thumb accentuating Holy Bands
Steeple elongated fingers, preaching Bliss
On The Tree, He died for our earthly sins
(The cross marked in the veins of the left hand)
He wished to spare us the suffering since
Love and compassion, for which we should stand
Only in Truth can we realise beauty
The Hands setting the example of: “Thank Ye!
[Poetry form used: Sonnet]
If we do not live in Truth, a God given opportunity which we must embrace, then the beauty of all that we perceive will pass us by. ~ Su Crous
Inspired by: ‘Hands of an Apostle’ by Albrecht Durer: http://uploads4.wikipaintings.org/images/albrecht-durer/hands-of-an-apostle.jpg
DEPICTED IN THE ABOUT SECTION
Sponsor: Heather Ober
Contest Name: Famous Art |
Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2013