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Ode Religion Poems | Ode Poems About Religion

These Ode Religion poems are examples of Ode poems about Religion. These are the best examples of Ode Religion poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ode | |

AN ODE TO HER

AN ODE TO HER
 Honour whom shall we raise high
With her i always stand and sigh
Your love is what i see at home
To whom shall you be made known?

Cleopatra-can she ever stands your tide?
The mediator o! She stood the time
She is a way easy and safe to Christ grace
And intercessor of the worn out age

She is of heaven alma-mater
Tabernacle of our lord and master
O! Virgin our gracious mother
Full of grace humble and greater


Etal Gracias Light







Details | Ode | |

Pride of a Woman

I was walking 
absentmindedly on 
the street
When I saw a sight 
luvly to behold.
This sight fit to take 
a man off his seat
Cos it's one that is 
but for the bold!

I have been 
oblivious of its 
presence
Thinkin and gettin 
used to the anomalies
That assault many a 
sense
That to us,the sight 
is nothing but 
abnormalities!

What did you see
That makes you 
ramble and rumble
As a restless sea?
Shall you tell that 
which is making you 
tremble?

I shall tell and sell
Cos it's not meant
for me alone.
From afar, the sight 
greeting my eyes 
was a damsel
Covered gracefully 
in a hijab looking but 
not alone!

She was different 
from the crowd
As the sun from the 
cloudy cloud
She was hansomely 
beautiful
Cos covered all over 
was she to the full!

She is different from 
the naked
And clothless ones 
who assault our 
eyes naked.
They it is that are 
molested
By men who the sight 
of them had tempted!

But she is not,but 
she is respected,
And shouts of 
'Alhaja,Alhaja'
Makes me know she 
is not to be 
suspected
Of the evils 
committed near and 
far.

The reason for her 
reverence
By all and sundry I 
seek to know,
The Hijab she wears 
is the essence
That protects, guide 
and make evil men 
say No.

So, friends this is 
the sight
I think is nicely right
For the ladies both  
near and far from us
IF not like hers but 
something close thus!

At least,
They should 
upgrade their rags
To cover and 
protect themselves 
from the beast
That dwell in the 
soul of the man that 
sags!

?To my lady in the 
Hijab, I
Will say mighty and 
high 
Surely is thy beauty, 
worth and ways
That uncomparable 
is the sun and its 
rays!

To my lady in the 
Hijab, I
Will say mighty and 
high 
Surely is thy beauty, 
worth and ways
That uncomparable 
is the sun and its 
rays!

To you I pray
Never let anything 
make you
Drop your pridely 
covering and go gay
Like the ladies in this 
worldly place do!

You are pride and 
hope
To those that look 
up to you
Many a man will want 
you and is ready to 
cope
And meet your 
demands if you say 
'I do'!

Oh GOD, my Lord!
I Make a shout and 
plea to you
To bless and 
preserve these one 
who use
The Hijab and invite 
others to come 
onboard.
And those that to the 
Hijab's use, they say 
I do.
And not those who 
think it is but a ruse!


Details | Ode | |

Ode on Sorrows

A traveler has traveled far and wide,
Lost in the plains of yellow flowers and Poppies
He saw the tree that stood
An Oak tree it was, with stream of water from underneath.

A reflection of his image he saw,
A fallacy he denied. 
Like a fool he talk to trees and skies
The west wind blew and his heart felt
Heard his name sorrow, thus the wind Whispers
“A man is weight by the sorrow in his heart”

Thirsty, he drank from the stream.
Bitter it was, but the stream was as clear as the sea
An epiphany he had, the taste of bitterness,
Was from his heart, the taste of sorrow.

Green grass withered and the sun died,
Illuminated by the night skies;
He mocks the heavens
And he curses the ground.

The heaven cried out,
“Man is imprisoned in the passage of time”
The stars died too
The stream dried out and came a man
“I am thy sorrow, thy need, thy fallacy”.
“I live in denial, for I know not the man I see,
I know not of my weight, my sorrows”

“The yolk of life that I carry has undone me”
“Emptiness in a man’s heart is the presences of grief
Atlas! How well did my heart grief” said he
“How well did my heart swallowe’d” 

Darkness came over the plain,
the beauty was shunt from man.
A voice he heard,"nature of man is beautiful and deceitful"
Dawn came, blissful, as the early birds began to sing
the dew drops that fell on the grass, illuminated the plains
his heart was filled with tears of truth.


Details | Ode | |

A Portrait of A Pastor

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


Details | Ode | |

-Ode To Spring-

The telephone rang, I answered cheerily
When the niceties were over, the voice inquired
"How is it going with the gardening today" quite sincerely
I could not refrain and out of exuberance, desired
to extol the virtues and due attribute to the joy that Spring is bringing.

The Birds are chirping away
gleefully abound at their playing
rejoicing the rebirth of Spring today
and now have more hours to bask in the sun
That's the glory and joy that Spring is bringing.

The Winter's gloom of body and mind is now done
the Trees and Shrubs, in the breeze can't restrain their greeting,
The Peaches are busy Peaches-sing
the Figs are Figging away
and the Apricots are buckling in their blooming.

The Guava's graciously budding and Guava-ing the whole year 
as with the Parsley's and Celery's luscious greenery,
The Paw-paw's are Paw-pawing, the Avocado-pear
so generous in their giving, through-out the whole year,
It's amazing, all the joy that Spring has sprung.

The Quince's are heavily wincing
the Mango's are flowering and ready to Mango-ing
the Banana's are Banana-ing
and the Plum's, purplish in their Plum-ming
so too are the Tamarillos heavy in Tree-tomato-ing 

While the white and mauve blossoms
of the Yesterday Today and Tomorrow's, soften's
the most perturbed mind with their heady aromatic scent
and the Jasmines exudes a fragrance extraordinary,
As with the Clivia's in saffron pride, glistening in sun-lit dew.

What an awesome, wondrous sight
to see Mother-nature's beauteous, creative delight 
blending so, with the Omnipotent Creator's panoramic scene   
Set so, that we the Immortal Mortal care-takers bear in mind
that His Garden and the giving Spring, is of the sharing Kind.
   


 


Details | Ode | |

O Muslim

Muslim who influenced by westernize, 
Lost name and Identity, drowned in Occidentalize, 
Got accuse of terror and blame of activist, 
Oh the Muslim, thou lost thy illuminant, 
 
Thou turn away face from lessons of Quran, 
Ever thou remembered the moral of surah Aal-e-Imran, 
Betrayed thy self through curse deed, 
The Almighty bondman what’s thee need, 
 
Lead thou self toward astray, 
Turned attention to infidel way, 
Forgotten the worry of last abode, 
Repent thy sins by viewing this ode, 
 
Eager thyself of virtue, thirst of hay, 
Inertial thought turns thou rough and clay, 
Vivify thy self, You the Muslim and still alive, 
Strong enough as the pillar of five, 
Worldly life is not more than amusement and joy, 
Be prepare for hereafter, as you have to die.
Written By
M. Shahid H. Chouhdry
Bahawalpur, Pakistan
All Rights Reserved.
shahid817@gmail.com


Details | Ode | |

Pyramid-Maker

From a three-sided angle
Astrological purpose is unmangled
Triangle on top
Square on the bottom
Bright halo around God
Our tears fill His bottle
A Pyramid is a monument to death
A Tabernacle of wealth
Which comes into effect
When there's no longer breath
Is it mourning or celebration in stealth
Beyond Technology
Architectural prophecy
Geometrical philosophy
The place where Kings and Queens lay
Buried on a sun-disk
Dedicated to Day
The final form to decay
Hands form this shape
When they're positioned to pray.


Details | Ode | |

i remember,

		


                I remember*

I remember someone calling my name…
I remember someone whispering in my ears…
I remember someone calling my name,
Calling my name, when I was so in deep tears…
And found out that he was our father…
I was willing to conceive his word, thou’ I nev’r knew how to read through his lines…
I remember someone calling my name….
Calling my name, 
The only person who remember’d me even when all others were forgotten about me…
I thought I was alone,
Because I nev’r knew that there is a bride who’d still marry me even when I was living under the skin of nobody…

I remember someone calling my name…
Calling my only name out of nowhere…
A man who which came to me and prove to be a good friend indeed…
He came in a bad time and proves to me that there’re still moments that worth to be celebrated…
A man who came when I was in a verge of despair…
And teach me how to act in the story full of tears and pain…
He gave me a reason to say thank you for every little piece of breath I take…

I remember someone calling my name…
When I was in deep, deep’st pain…
He came and offered me something, something that is rare to find…
He offer’d me love, peace and happiness in the world that celebrates a hobby of hate…
He came and offer’d me a drink,
In the world packed by drunken masters…
He came to me when I was in deep pain…
And surely taught me how to babysit my pain…
For I knew not who’d sell his only home for me,
But anyway, he has surely proved to be the architecture of my soul…
For I knew not who’d love like him…
But surely he has proved to be a good friend…
who’ll always be there for me even when the world falls into sleep…

I remember someone calling my name…
For I knew not who’d be…
But he came one day,
And teach me how to sing a happy song in the choir that sing a song of hate…
He came to me when I was nobody…
And transformed me to a body that anybody wo’d dare for to build upon it…
Our father, the born warrior and the conqueror who nev’r used power…
A man of many gentle men…
Who’d love like him, make me understand…
So keep looking for his presence, 
For there’re so many places where his love would dare to dwell upon… 
So keep looking for god’s presence,
For he has so, many corners in this world that we could find his presence that we fail to dwell upon…

End of poem18