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Prose Poetry Heaven Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Heaven

These Prose Poetry Heaven poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Heaven. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Heaven poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love Is My Heaven

~“Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3.3



~Blind am I to be of love? Here be mortal eyes, seeing with mine heart. Whereupon earth, I behold her at all times. There in deep pools, from pebble tossed, the rippling flow of her hair. There, where lies the dew upon the buds. Her moist red lips awaiting my favor. In the courtyard fountain's purl, tis the beauty of her laughter. All about me is her visage, from waking morn, to deep twilight. Even the moon does look upon me. Gently caressing my face and does kiss me with her light. Blind to love I cannot be. Not when her love is my world, my eyes, my heart, my very being.~
For the contest, Romeo And Juliet; How Tragic Love Is


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Where I Come From

Where I’m from
Would you like to know
Where I was born
From whose seeds I sow
Not from the hill country
Where beautiful flowers bloom
Not by the river
Where brides marry in June
But I’m from a place
You’ve never been
I’m from the depths of hearts so true
I’m from the soul of hearts once blue
I’m from the joy of what’s meant to be
I’m from a place you dream to see
I am an angel
I’m from above
I was born in a city
But,
I come from love.

By Patricia Templeton


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Familiarity

What is it to me
that I cannot place you
in the picture painted by the years
the life has already spent?
Do you merely lurk,
and leave at a much later time?
Or, 
maybe
you are staying
because 
    you 
        are 
           meant
                to 
                   stay.

Then,
stay.
If you may.
I pray.
While I find a place (for us)
in the picture of eternities,
the gods must be 
hiding, 
conspiring;
themselves amusing.


Ah, the grand scheme of things -
                            a forgetting.
A familiar spirit we feel -
                            a remembering.     


(Note) This piece was inspiredly written for the beautiful souls - even the 
strangers - I have met along the way and will still come upon in my lifetime. To 
each special one, you have stirred quite a familiar spirit within. A remembrance 
of forgotten past, I suppose. Thank you for letting me peak through your 
soul's window. The veil of forgetfulness has never been thin as now to me. You 
have so given me a gift I shall treasure in the moments I may tend to forget 
who I truly am - a being with a soul.



Details | Prose Poetry | |

Borrow Time

A question, a sentence all made since, My apologies indeed,1 to the 2,3…. Can you make time a map, A man a watch, watching it as a clock slide by, Dear fox. Go seek out a dinner for me perhaps a dinner for three, Cause what I could see was a family for me. Is there no good or bad or have you seen no evil to know what it is sad, Settling for less if not the reason why this pen flows, At five o’clock in the morning just after I take a ride down to the coast, I began to catch a feast is it time for lunch with a breeze? , Please just read. But I took the road not taken, And like Robert Frost it was a demon I seen; in me. A lyrical poem with many different poets all in one, a rust diamond if this still is not gem, site the beach, for more discrete. I remember a famous rapper say don’t read too deep into my rhyms, I said to myself I know the feeling too well to be speechless to dine in and be sleepless, This is not the white house but the light is on in this house, all the time. This is the saddest thing to try to reason as I am floating in and out of consciousness , In a lumpy bed watching the clock, skip a beat at five o’clock in the morning, What a treat, And surgery of all things staying awake listening to everescence, Thinking to myself how this would sound better if it was duet with some R&B. I went across the street seen the Raven but still believe in heaven, And as I was waiting patiently a Rose grow from concrete, How long would it grow until the end of the road I think still, and blink. If you knew would you still search if you knew? Could you paint a picture of the life after death only if you knew. Can you get the greeting, and I mean all is well tell this to the Senate, This meaning is too far-fetched to reason. Like my favorite Poet John Milton my favorite poet without any QUSTION, That a book tells two side to a tale, why not witness? By just listening, Question! ! ! The life of a SENTENCE! ! ! It still makes sense somehow more or less than other. I blinked again knowing the content of his meaning, And arose from sleep just as a whisper in the night, And repeated repented as needed the questions, Indeed to answer all too well, Being five o’clock in the morning it was a question, A sentence it all makes sense, One to the two, three…… I sleep with a pen but I sleep with sword! ! ! ! ...


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Pleasure in Possibilities


Writing my prose,
unmeasured.
Sometimes I try poesy,
another pleasure.
Untrained. Unskilled.
But, what a joy!
to freedom,
my thoughts I find.
And so, as day by weeks
would turn into a lifetime, could be
the possibilities concocted by gods
may be.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heroshima

Heroshima
Can ewe balance out those two final hits against the lives saved those that would have 
continued WAR on Asian Soil those days of hell of hurting men caught by bullits and the 
bayonets? Can just two bombs blasting death be counted as salvation won for all those 
young boys girls old men women who died instantly in two Atomic Blasts over those two 
cities of Japan. Nagasaki Heroshima eye have seen the END of time the BOOKS of GOD are 
open when the Dead Arrive. Arise all sleepers in those Graves can GOD usher in those 
SOULS into new places now to stay is there a place for JAPAN in Jesus Heaven? For those of 
us who sinned and suffered radiation burns lost our skins and mortal coils gone some died 
just screaming out in pain all normal living gone perhaps no time to say your HOLY NAMME 
of Jesus. Can they live there inside your heaven is it still possible that you forgive them for 
once upon the time it came to me today that a Just and Perfect GOD adjudges perfectly 
those in suffering words can not describe no time to utter words of salve; but deeds looked 
at made right by YOU salvation won given now to all. Eventide has come today to those 
whom tomb decay whom die threw no fault of there own. Just hit twice dumped down on 
Killed with anguish very slow. A special place in heaven for all those special people of Japan. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Juliet's Plea

~“Tis torture, and not mercy. Heaven is here
Where Juliet lives, and every cat and dog
And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
Live here in heaven and may look on her,
But Romeo may not."
- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet, 3.3

Juliet's Plea

Dost thou deem, heav'n only rises with the corpse
upon the last sweet breathe of virgin light
as face dost pale to pearl and roses leave my lips tonight
Romeo, my living eyes knew naught your purpose.

In sooth, I thought thee dead on that black night
and so, no other earthly joy could stay my heart
but heav'ns had we all, before this sorry plight
pray pardon love, I would nay have thee depart.

Abide, abide my love, my Romeo, alas...
by your leave, I hold St. Peter’s gate op’ for thee
And verily, I wait for time is naught in death 
and thee, my love, my Lord, are all to me. 

*Their love and their deaths were a scandel.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The generous mother Earth

THE GENEROUS MOTHER EARTH
How generous you are the mother Earth
It is from thee that man was made
You have made man un-thirsty
And your benevolent in giving out of nothing is inexplicable
You feed the worthy and the unworthy
We are till forever indebted to you
To return what thy have taken from thee!
The heaven can never be ungrateful
For the inexplicable water supply
That has made the heaven glamour
That has made the birds of the air gorgeous and flamboyant
They can never fail to pay thee, the last tribute
As to return the expedients taken from thee!
You have continued to bring out valuables
That prompted the regalia of men
That necessitated the pride of plants and flamboyant flowers
That yielded the live of insects and man
 They wouldn’t hesitate to vomit explicitly what they have savored
To the generous mother Earth!
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Leah's Angel

The stale and dusty, lead filled air
Began to stir in widening breaths.
Pinpoints of light, ionic particles charged with power,
Picked up momentum, as reality stretched.

Excitedly, they began to spin in quickening orbits
Leaving sparkling tactile meteor showers.
Then flashed a brilliant light, so pure and white, 
It tossed me, crumbled, to the quaking floor,
For seemingly raw and unconscious hours.

Dazed, and disorientated, I feared the worst.
Was Death about to open Its ever-ending door?
But, around me grew a radiant hum, louder still it rumbled,
Until at last I braved to slit my eyes
To see, if only for a moment, what marvelous
Spectral filled the space, causing my life to tumble,
Twixt heaven and earth, twixt heart and soul.

There, mighty, glorious, beautiful
Beyond words or understanding
Suspended in the ether between heaven and earth
Was an Angel of Light, illumined by immense beauty and power.
Hand outstretched, She beckoned me, to rise and closer come.

I dared not breathe or blink my eyes, lest She disappear from sight.
But more than sight, or sound, or touch
Her proof was in the mighty waves;
Waves of Energy, radiating frequencies so high, they lifted me to 
Resonance; enough to see Her shape, Her robe of light,
Her all knowing piercing eyes.

Then She spoke to me in pictures, revealing in simpicity the very foundations 
of the earth, the moon and stars, and far flung universes.
She shared the truth of Power and Light, comforting me with the mere slight
Movement of her illumined, translucent hand.
She dismissed the dense lie of my earthbound body, and commanded forth
My own radiant, pulsing Body of Light, too beautiful to comprehend.

Then a voice so powerful, so filled with Love and Grace, 
Neither male nor female, without form or face,
Spoke to me from all directions and all dimensions of space.
As if to confirm my personal divinity, It said, “You are immortal, eternal, and 
Nothing can truly hurt you.  Remember always Who You are.”

At once, I feared yet dared to see. 
I felt release, expansive joy sublime;  
For there was I, a matching Light, 
An entity of Divine Peace and Love;
My spirit one with Her grace and poise,
One with all creatures; as below so above.

Her mission now complete, 
Her image slowly faded into everyday surroundings,
Yet Her Presence lingered still; the energy of the space She filled
Still crackled with power and beauty; the very thought of Her still thrilled. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The art of blessing


As a pediatric nurse
One may least expect 
To lead by 
Very young children
Sensing
The art of blessing.

These are not angels,
Invisible messengers
Or winged beings, but
Dying children 
Heralding
The art of blessing.

Soon after birth, Leslie 
Began dying of hemophilia,
The large general hospital
Become his second home, 
Transcending darkness around
The social taboo: death.

On the day of the inevitable 
He was four, acting forty:
Doesn't act like a little girl
Told his weeping mother
I am made of Light
Is it possible for the Light to die?

Before departing, prophesied 
Her mother will be blessed with 
Two other sons:
Only earthly angels 
Raising sick children
May share in the art of blessing


The prophesy materialized,
Both suffered the same ailment
Proclaiming:
Being the children of Light
Heralding
The art of blessing.


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Contrast

Pharisee went into the Temple to pray
Sure of his goodness and love for God
He prayed confidently about his deeds
Fasting, tithing, praying, He did faithfully
 
This man was glad when the sinner came
Into the Temple with eyes downcast.
For it gave a perfect contrast to himself.
So he thanked God he wasn't like this sinner.
 
Sinner was bowed so very low before God.
"God have mercy on me a sinner." he whispered.
No list of good uttered, as he could see none.
Jesus said Sinner not Pharisee was justified.
 
Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus over to eat.
Simon didn't have servants wash Jesus feet
He didn't kiss Jesus or draw near for fear,
Fear of what others Pharisees would think.
 
In came a sinful woman with unkempt hair.
She wept at Jesus feet without looking up.
Carefully she wiped these feet with her hair.
Simon was now sure Jesus was no prophet
 
A prophet could surely tell she was a sinner.
How could he let her touch him that way?
Reading Simon's thoughts Jesus taught.
Using this contrast in real life as a lesson.
 
He asked Simon if there were two debts
One greater, one lesser and both forgiven.
Who would feel greater love and gratitude?
Simon replied, "The one whose debt was greater"
 
"Correct" said the One who would pay all debts.
Those who know their debt to God is great.
Are filled with greater love toward the Savior.
Simon showed he had little need for the Christ.
 
But to the woman. Jesus said, "You sins are forgiven."
"Go and sin no more." She stood free and esteemed
Precious are those who come humbly to the Lord
He will forgive and welcome them to His Family forever.
 
Humility. Pride. Contrast. Mixed in all of us.
People who come to God feeling worthless, Christ lifts up.
People striding in proudly, Jesus humbles to allow entry.
For the Lord's Kingdom's door is incredibly low.
So low that we enter only through true confession
From the heart to Jesus as Savior who humbled Himself
Coming down from glory to earth's mess to make a Way.
By humbling Himself on a Cross – Universe's God tortured.
 
Jesus contrast makes ours seem small – so why wait?
May we take the humble road to Life, risen Christ made.
Joining God's family of forgiven, freed, joyful sinners.
New life's contrast with old will grow as we follow Him.
 
By a thankful sinner now saint by Jesus' grace


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fourth Fable

 The Fourth Fable 
The Fourth Fable 
 
A Jesus Cowboy Song 
 
Eye am a strong man iff strength is not physical alone, 
but charachter and hope, love become my armour 
 my arm as gates once opened close now new ones open at a glance in poverty 
of riches poor people there in Heaven sing to Jesus as they wave branches from 
the richness of the trees beside the waters running in the trenches freely given 
overflowing when a little lamb just wants a drink of water another drink the water 
bubbles up so no one has to lift her she can reach the water carefully she drinks 
and then she sings…' 
'my holster is empty my life is complete my love is in Heaven 
eye have plenty to eat and to drink ' 
life is not meant to be a shoot em up rodeo 
life is not meant to be a shoot um up movie 
my life is in Heaven my holster is empty 
eye have LOVE' 
 


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Changing Directions

	I was driving on Confused Avenue, only to find a T section at the end of the Avenue, I had to turn left, turn right, or simply just turn around.
	I sat in my car, to read the street signs.  The street sign to the left was Hell Street, the sign to the right was Heaven Highway.
	Quite naturally, I turned right onto Heaven Highway.  I drove 10 miles only to find Heaven Highway was blocked, so I had no choice but to turn around.
	Instead of turning back on Confused Avenue, I decided to drive down Hell Street because I was curious about what I would find.  I drove 5 miles and didn’t like what I saw.  I tried to turn around, but, I realized I was trapped, so I continue driving on Hell Street, oh and to my surprise.
	As I drove, I past intersections titled Judgmental Court, Temptation Avenue, Backsliding Lane, Gossip Corner and Devil’s Plain.  I said to myself, these are the same streets I’ve traveled on before, no need to stop, I need to drive on. 
	I continue driving on Hell Street looking for a way to turn around, lo and behold, I saw a bright light shining in the middle of the road.
	I drove as close as I could to the bright light, I stopped the car and got out for a closer look.  I walked into the light and was greeted by a man who was kind and wise.
	I was so scared, but he assured me I would be fine.  He said I saw you driving on Heaven Highway….child, you can’t get to heaven driving that way.
	He said, In order to get to heaven you need to know about  Judgmental Court, Temptation Avenue, Backsliding Lane, Gossip Corner and Devil’s Plain.  
	I told the man I once lived on some of those streets, so I wanted to see where Heaven Highway would take me.  It was blocked, so I couldn’t drive through.
	He said Heaven Highway was blocked for a reason. You forgot to repent and ask the Father, through His Son Jesus, for forgiveness.
	I closed my eyes, feel to my knees and I started to pray, when I finished praying, I  opened my eyes, the man, and, the bright light had disappeared.
	I got back in my car and turned it around, that’s when I realized I had been driving on Heaven Highway the entire time.
	The Highway to Heaven is not a straight forward drive, there are so many detours along the way, that force many to turn their life around.


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~ (~) ~ Dedicated in Love to My Little Sister ~ Tina ~ My Songbird ~ (~) ~

Sissy little Sissy... you fought all your days as it were... . But grateful I am because what you left behind for me is the wealth of your heart so-open... precious... unconditional, pure. Yes Sissy with your broken lungs and all, watching the other children run... as they play. Faithful you were though even given the-burden of-this. You knew that in Heaven you'd be able finally yourself to do this, you knew with God everything carries the pleasure, of a brighter day... ! Now I know you are with Him, I honestly believe running like children will run come them in their glory by name, all their days, Monday through Sunday... ! God knows... it was my hope for you-you would be brought to know them in their freedom... joy... yes... their fun... ! You taught me the greatest thing as you sat talking with everyone through those tender moments given you, gasping for-air... ! Knowing, trying to offer them this truth... . Because being merely six and one half at the time still you knew, had been shown this yourself, were grateful, prayed to remain. You knew "Love is patient, kind and generous, heavenly, faithfully-and-eagerly; tenderly-aware... ." And Sissy-too... I believe now given that day you passed... beams of light shining strait on you in your bed in your room, dust gently drifting... . God He came down as the waterfalls do personally picked you up and carried you off to Heaven with Him... ! And I can't wait myself someday as well, yes I can only hope as I pray now to see you there... ! Signed forever grateful: Your brother ~ Jamie ~ Author notes http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLRyYETnoIE&feature=related


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The Letter that made it to Heaven

( Ripley believe it or not) This occurrence I wrote happened a few hours ago, these are actual facts, deep emotions, listen to the emotions
{Comments are vital if felt}
I'm remarkably beatified, glorious augmentation, God your child is appreciative for the commendation, I (THANK) my relative Brandon Presley for the pickup, a unusual feeling about the ride, intelligence battling hardworking and vacationing, praying while a magnificent vibe of hip hop melodies is temporarily blasted, on the other hand God in no way comes last, finally the decision was final, no mystery I accepted hardwork, this brand-new meditation that plunders in my brain lets out," Your Grown, No one else can do this for you." I recognize its the humbling tongue of Lord God, God has been so good to me, and this indicates when can't is being necessarily used, I (CAN'T) over express God has been good to me, for the sake of its the truth, I believe in God, no shames a stern truth.
- Loverboi


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The Moon Shiniest Bright


The full moon shiniest bright inside its double ringed circle as I hoped to see the blood moon meteorologist talked about all week. 
Sad to say I missed the moment so many gazed with their telescopes and cameras. 

I pulled back the white sheer curtain to see the full moon shining its soft shine into my dark room. 
A brown curtain is all that keeps prying eyes from peeping in the sliding glass door at midnight. 

The wooded area so close behind my house hides much. 
No animals roaming, vertical or upright, can see me sitting, watching TV or on my iPad late into the wee hours of the morning. 

October 8 2014 sees another blood moon, but I missed it all. 
Maybe the next one will grace my eyes with its beauty. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

YOUR SPECAIL TO ME

you most then that
your my bat
for me you fight
and just right
you ar my life
you alway have the key
YOUR SPECAIL TO ME


Details | Prose Poetry | |

CHRISTMA AND SNOW

its feel like christma
if there the white stuff
if it sticks and thick
 and make snow ball quick
its fun to run
as the wind blow
IN 
CHRISTMAS AND SNOW


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Humility

I find it odd that as soon as I asked for forgiveness for my sins
they all came back on me - tenfold.  My seemingly 'bad' luck was caused
only by what I did to others against the will of the Lord.
When I honestly repented for the wrongs I had done, 
I didn't ask for ev'rything to go haywire, but that's exactly what happened,
because I hadn't tried to rectify my behaviors.  I tried to run from them,
and act like I'd ne'er really done anything wrong.  I tried to shield myself
from them behind a wall of lies that only created more lies.
Instead of facing up to what I'd done, and try to fix it,
I thought it would all just go away because I wanted to turn my life around
and be a better person.  I realize now that by hiding behind the hand of the Lord
I only got slapped in the face even harder.  I showed no respect for the laws of God
or the land I live in, so I got blown apart by the bomb I lit so long ago.
It's time I stop running, and face up to what I've done.  Only if I'm willing to do this
will the Lord show mercy on me.  I must apologize, and pay the price -
even if in secret.  Only then will the landslide that I created rush into the sea,
and be squelched by my honesty.  Once I take this step, all will be well again,
and I will be able to live my life in peace, knowing that I have done all I can
to right my wrongs.  And, when I die, the gates of Heaven will open wide,
and accept me unflinchingly.  Then I'll truly know I've been forgiven.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost Confessions

Lost between Heaven and Hell, battlements of my spirit and mind, Raptures me into 
the new day, but delivers me in the darkness of night. I argue within my mind, that 
shall wither it blind, randomly I search for the meaning that enhances the light. I 
wander through the ailment that haunts me so. Small amounts of peace keep me 
driving onward, though I feel no glow. In-between both I am haunted with one 
sight, Glimpse of the dream I hold so dear, with massive amounts of fear, my 
menacing fantasy keeps me on my fight. Each week that passes seems as everyone 
that fell before.
My soul knows my end is of a different kind, knowing the sin that I carry each night 
and the penance that I must endure. My destiny is not what I see, But is what I 
deeply ignore. Lost between Heaven and Hell, My soul cannot sell, this torment, I 
speak is a different form I break, Not just any ordinary sin, I have no-where to begin.
No end to reach, my darkness seeks light, though there is no realization to teach. I 
am haunted by the past that lonely night that seizes, though it pleases me ,but no 
other can live in the desire that I speak here and now, Others have traveled this 
road without any dark temptation, though I would lose all interpretation, with great 
litigation. Lost now and forever my dream, forgotten almost it may seem. Distant 
calls engorge my thoughts, memories chase my spirit, and lust envelops my soul, 
into the realm betwixt Heaven and Hell. My dream I shall bury, my destiny, I shall 
marry within my mind and spirit. These darkened nights shall grab the bright days 
down into the mishap of grace. I will council each cheerful day and plant a smile on 
my face. However, the agony shall drive my heart to a stainless hollowness of 
discomfort my continued dream shall live on and inhabit this shell. This shell 
someday shall wither away; there will be nothing left to tell.


Written for

Sponsor Catie Lindsey 
Contest Name Dark Prose 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Between Heaven and Hell

What shall I do
What shall I do in the meantime
In between this heaven and this hell
Believing in God more than what the people tell
What shall I do
What shall I do in the meantime
Under the sun
Never ending Corruption
In between this heaven and this hell

Between zero year and the end times
I've bidden my time
Smoke and mirrors
A day further
Time goes on
That  light on the horizon
Is just a mirage
Just the glare off a shiny nickel in the dirt
Nothing but Despair
The entire world 
In a state of dis-repair
We march on further
Into the abyss

A day further
Time goes on 
So what shall I do
What shall I do in the meantime
In between this heaven and this hell
Believing in God more than what the people tell
What shall I do
What shall I do in the meantime
Under the sun
Never ending Corruption
In between this heaven and this hell


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Dreamless Tree Dweller

Swaying. Dancing. Let me carry you.
Dance for me. Dance for me. Dance for me.
It's beautiful how you hold on so tight, but reach so far.

Up and Up and Up.
Begging sunshine and starlight and moon beams to fill your cupped palm.
We' can sip from it together but we both know you'll never be satisfied
Until your silver leaves can dance to the symphonies of singing constellations.

The diamonds sprinkling down your face would look like tears.
But you, and I? We both know this isn't real. Put away your fears
And dream for me. Dream for me. Dream for me


And please darling, Let us never wake.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Heaven

Heaven


The brilliant, blue sky was filled with happy beings
It was so peaceful, Heaven almost touch the ground
The people from both places spoke to each other

Rich, poor, actors and beggars had lunch
Had beautiful conversations
A day, when Heaven came down


William Morrissey5/9/07Vision


Details | Prose Poetry | |

People of Heaven

  People of heaven 
of People each place from which 
they came.
If it is the plains on which they lived, 
then her hair smells of grass
sweet green grass high to the waist
waist high grass.
With her mate, 
he then appears in the grass, 
with his eyes wide open, she is there. 

Flowers and trees gathered beneath
both one for the other
grass under their feet speaking with the 
wind
having no need to speak with another
different some what 
but from awe though they seek, 
to feel hearts that beat gathered from two
leaving one
plus the two with green grass and the breeze. 

Souls that have come, 
did they stay could they not have known 
Having no souls, they came, 
eyes of they softly glowing with life
as the grass there so green
wholly knowing no strife
being
People of heaven 
of People each place from which 
they came.
Did they know
Beyond their knowing.
Eyes softly opened
wholly filled with green bloom
And they rise, as the grass, 
yellow sun in their eyes and they know.
That all eyes are soft and waiting to open. 

Is It Poetry 
 
 


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Angels Dancing on Clouds

Working mowing a meadow there was very faint singing from very far away,
It sounded like a group of angels singing and ringing sweet and clear,
I must be a choir singing outside of the church just outside the town,
So sitting down I took a break and enjoy the voices carried on the wind.

The voices floated into the meadow it blew, rustling grass and flowers,
Then the flowers swayed and they began to dance in the heavenly tunes,
The songs became louder and more clear and I could make out some words,
Voices drifting up high to heaven passing fluffy clouds into blue sky.

My meadow came alive and the smell of my sweet cut grass made me giddy,
Have I died gone up to heaven nobody would have noticed any difference,
All the wild birds stood in silence even they could not sing any sweeter,
Sitting in the warm cloudy sunshine angels in heaven dancing on clouds.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A TIP

as you walk
ot talk 
or move around
from city or town
watch what you say
as you go this way
kept a tight lips
thats
A TIP


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Cowslip and the Primrose

How beautiful and pleasant is nature at this very moment it uplifts hearts,
Green is the grass dotted with young flowers in golden rods of sunlight,
The cuckoo has returned from far away and she shouts her gladness once more,
A nightingale pours hymns with love joy from every bough so sweet so lovely.

The cowslip and the primrose bathe in soft dewy meadows they bend in the wind,
The scent of their presence rises to heaven and heaven smiles down upon them,
The country side is a paradise of love youth and beauty it takes breath away,
If a child was permitted to break from parents she would run and jump with joy.

To breathe fresh pure air to revel in the feeling of all the delicious greenness,
Let work stop for a day calm the brain and heart and just lay down in soft clover,
The otter can bask so can the sedge snake and the toad, why can't can man bask too,
Such a day must come for all families or nature will waste its time go elsewhere.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Fabel32

 Fabel32 
Fabel32 
 
 
Man or Dove 
 
 
CharlaXFabels 
 
GOD is Jesus. A living GOD does not have to frustrate Him self with a man at all 
but he does what a GOD wants and no one can tell HIM anyway. He could have 
done a different planet and never made the man the ADAM. He could have been 
a DOVE and ruled the WORLD of DOVES nothing moving on the surface of the 
planet except food for DOVE. 
John 20:30-31 
 Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which 
are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that 
Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his 
name. 
The written word is given not so perfectly it seems the detractors of the Gospel 
will agree the BIBLE has been written by the men and not the DOVE. He does not 
complain of feathers colored wrong he does not jealously assume the plume of 
other birds he never drinks too much or eats too many seeds of grass he never 
wants a different colored shirt of blue upon his back he has feathers mostly gray 
and brown a DOVE is GOD in FORM of FLESH and LOVE. Today eye discovered 
a dove a thing of beauty made in love the GOD most certainly seems to me to be 
a creator capable of form. The feathers around the eye. The way the dove tried to 
see me from the side she turned her delicate head just like a lady in love. The 
feet seemed too large on her for dove but seemed like duck perhaps this dove 
was just malformed an egg in need of more attention in the nest but not the fault 
of GOD. On DOVE WORLD there is one tree where DOVE the GOD does live. She 
preens her feathers and she rules but yet she loves them. When a DOVE dies 
and falls from SKY she moves herself to see just where it lays and then SHE 
Cries a mournful sound in otherwise so pretty of a face she can raise it from the 
dead and send it into Heaven then to live and fly forever no more in need of world 
of food or anything. One day upon the Dove Earth the sky was filled with war the 
demon doves were killing all the poor. They called a halt in vain attempts at 
peace and then a most marvelous thing. The DOVE GOD she flew to high and 
spread her wings in a hurried dive she slammed into the ground at Supersonic 
speed and then she died and then she screamed eye am alive eye hold the keys 
the poor will soon come and live with me and then the SOUL of GOD the DOVE it 
flew to Heaven where it grew to be the JESUS GOD. 
He rules in love. A DOVE,MAN,GOD. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Christian Wine

 Christian Wine 
Christian Wine 
 
Fifteen Fabel 
  
Christian Wine 
 
CharlaX Fabels 
 
Most men reiterate the infirmities of flesh the scars so proud to show so scary 
but so worthwhile like Tom Sawyers Toe. The boys eye meet on the street hold 
up they shirts and say look so neat the knife came all the way across and then 
they brag so braggart the facts and get another illegal drink for most of them use 
the alley they are too young to sit the bar stool anyway. The seldom used door 
long locked against the thief they lean upon each other's arm in misery for one 
so young to fall prey to john barely corn. 
The eye used to drink it down convinced it was the best thing in town and let me 
tell you all it was hard to put it down but the punch line of my story is the sobriety. 
Jesus saves in different ways each person is not the same. He never changes 
but the person changes to fit the mold of HIS direction. The soups cold and the 
meat is not too hot and the butter never melts but eye am so happy not to drink. 
The wet rain falls upon my brow and makes me frown but somehow the son 
always shines for me as well and love is just around. 
The edges of my mind are filled with happiness her name is love she is ewe my 
loneliness is gone my loveliness has come. 
Rules for English words stop me from making rhymes and so the words come 
out so strang and yet she thinks she loves she moves the mountains between 
us and GOD is in my heart and love is also there from her to make me live just 
until it is time to die and leave her to carry on in Heaven to build a place to stay a 
picnic ready to be eaten in the grass of Heaven just inside the doorway. 
There were many people stories in my bible to read there was a Nazarene who 
never cut his hair it is said they never drink wine? 
He is drinking wine in Heaven with his JESUS now.