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Sonnet Spiritual Poems | Sonnet Poems About Spiritual

These Sonnet Spiritual poems are examples of Sonnet poems about Spiritual. These are the best examples of Sonnet Spiritual poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sonnet | |

raindrops dance


raindrops dance

The falling
raindrops dance, a
bearing wall
retains his memories
of years before,
constructing
solitude, invite his
soul
and form continuum,
above to soar.

Reminding paragon
among beach plum,
intently they
behold, when words
indite,
a skyward calling
are the raindrops'
thrum,
the mirroring of
stares and souls'
invite.

And as the raindrops
dance around and
jump
belike she comes,
'mid silences aboard
foreshadowing the
rainfall drops that
thump,
their night defines
again the winds'
accord.

Her grandness in the
mistle's waving
forms
a solemn cause
became of diamond
storms.

© 06-15-2013, G.
Venetopoulos, All
rights reserved


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Respecting the Universe

A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.
And though, sometimes, we feel alone,
that mere existance matters not,
or that one life will be forgot,
a chain links us to the unknown.
A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.

We are a part of earth and sky,
as one with nature, when we die.
And though, sometimes, we feel alone,
a chain links us to the unknown.
A listening sky overhead,
hears whispers of our words, unsaid.


____________________________________________
For Dr. Ram's Contest: Sonnetino Rispetto "Respect"
10/20/14


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Seeking The Answer -Miltonic Sonnet


The shadows creep and faintly in the sky,
stars begin to come to us with gentle light.
And once more our fancy doth take flight
with man's eternal question " oh God, why?
What place have we when then we die,
railing against the unknown we still fight.
Often that query comes unbidden in the night
as the time of our mortality marches nigh.
Now into the  depths of sky man sails
on wings of faith, answers cloaked in mystery.
We beat our breast in anguish, try to understand
the plan that lurks there behind the starry veil.
And so it has been given through all history
that perhaps answers are written only in shifting sand...

4/18/14


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The Choices We Make

Walking down the hallway,
Seeing all the doorways,
And all the choices in life,
Making it difficult to choose,
The right room from all the other rooms,
Bringing you the wisdom and truth,
For the imperfection is within us all,
Which makes us all crawl at times,
On our hands and knees in the dark,
To discover what is right and survive,
In life as long as we can accept,
What life brings to us in our hearts,
Which we patiently accept the pleasures,
And push away the sacrifices much in our lives,
Yet, to correct our flaws we have,
Which causes most our struggles,
Till we open our eyes,
And see what we have and must believe,
That our lives are greater than we ever know,
Cause God created it all for us,
But the choices are ours to make,
To find the happiness,
Which is ours to be found and kept.


Details | Sonnet | |

Last Breath

You were a shining Star.
Few of many in the sky.
Looking up so very high,
Not knowing why you are.

Close and set you are far.
Spinning flames  knot a tie,
I note a pattern just like pi.
Colliding with me you spar.

So burn it up and burn away,
Sow your heart upon a plane.
Chart your distance in the clay.
Burn it all up then call it sane.

The explosion in the sky is His death.
All burned up He has no last breath.

(R) Registered:  2013  Ann Rich


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Love

The dialogue is love. It saturates every fiber of 
The soul. It intoxicates the spirit. Thus, evermore
I dwell at its tavern. I sip from its heavenly goblet,
Thereby, dancing in the spirit. It’s the stimulus of
Miracles—the parent of eternity. From depth the
Soul, I’ve courted love, inscribing its portrait 
Upon spiritual leaflets. I’ve partaken of its doctrine,
Inebriated in the spirit, adrift the seventh heaven.
Love is an invasion, permeating the psyche, 
Surging through the actuating-cause. I burn for the
Face of love: its depth, its width, its episode. It’s
Ever upon my imagination, as sturdy as oak, 
Intriguing my passions come sunrise. Indeed, the
Dialogue is love: its reach, its breadth, its texture.   


Details | Sonnet | |

The Beat Goes On

A beat for every step and every trade.
To dance and sing for thine soon married wife.
A guitar stringed. A harp to take you played.
A beat to drum and drive at dark is life.

A beat to string in sitting position
When singing to your newest mate. No knife
Can cut the love of your new condition.
A beat to drum and drive at dark is life.

A sailing boat. The sweetest honeymoon.
A storm approaches now causing much strife.
The beat does continue though scared too soon.
A beat to drum and drive at dark is life.

The beat of life goes on and on, but storms
Can’t shake the love of God from man it forms.


Details | Sonnet | |

Still Standing

Where were you when my world fell apart?
The Sun darkened and the Moon just fled.
All had been done and all had been said.
And ripped to shreds was my beating heart.

Even the Seas began to part.
And the Mountain tops spread.
I lay there completely dead.
Even the Stars I could not chart.

If only you knew,
If only you were there,
If only you had a clue!
If only life had been fair!

I’d turn the clocks back,
Still standing dead in my track!


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An art by heart

The moonbeams of the 
silver night
Flows and sweetly kisses the 
forest
In the blue sky all-stars look 
so bright
I can't stop thinking you, oh 
my dearest.

The winds bring the soft 
aroma of the belly flower
I am standing as a lonely 
field near to my window
And see a couple of glow-
worm flying together
Ah! This every sweet thing 
carries me to you.

Suddenly in my thoughts at 
a sane island
Oh beloved! I see we both 
are so close
Sharing an eternal love by 
holding each other hand
From eyes to eyes, lips to 
lips, nose to nose.

There we are in spiritual 
love and a sacred pair
As in painting light and 
shade looks pretty together.

© Raselkhan


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WHERE NOTHING MATTERS

Imagine a world where nothing matters
Think about it for a second, really
No questions like, was it worth it anymore
Not seeing the point of a world in tatters

Consider; if no one felt any fear
And people with confidence and no doubt
If they carried their dreams above themselves
Knowing how useless, all that they hold dear

Envision this world of variety
A kaleidoscope that creates a self
Picture each individual lonely
But deep inside there is homogeny

Day after day the cosmos continues
Then a final day where nothing matters

©david byrne jan 2013 


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Lonely woman

Lonely woman

The rain of winter days, repeats their words,
the messages of dusk and truths perceives,
her passing wraith the seaman's heart aggrieves,
- unspoken words percuss on festal chords.

Once at nocturnal hours the shadows link,
- that lonely woman's never sung, night song,
red wine - divine, her splendor flies fore dawn,
while eminent his sails, egress to sink.

Sea waves convey to ports two dancing forms
where tears and laughs subside, when dark distils,
with soul that gallivants, love wounds she heals,
rain priestess saves her lonesomeness in storms.

With colored rainbows flies to highs and bold,
sun's crimson spills what shoreline mists enfold.

© 02-17-2013, G.Venetopoulos
(sonnet)


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Set Me Free

Set me free Lord set me free,
Take this evil I lay with away.
Take this torture turn it astray.
Walk with me just let me be.

Look inside my heart to see,
Erase my mind as I do pray.
Renew my spirit all in a day.
Sign me up for a high decree.

Leave all this as dust in the wind,
Scatter past present and future,
I will not falter nor will I bend,
Send it all away with no suture.

Set me free Lord, take this madness and put it in its place.
I must warn you it wears a mask to cover up its ugly face.


(R) Registered:  2013  Ann Rich


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GHOST

      GHOST
Oh, gentle ghost, you come and then you go,
with puzzles of the past, unanswered still,
your fragrance calls to mind, things I don't know,
from every word you give, I take my fill.

Tis life's great tragedy, you'd have me wear,
for all the days and nights, I've left to hold,
but spirit brings the dark, and takes me where
I reach the all alone, not growing old.

Your beauty is my breath--my greatest sin,
and has your mother known you all this well,
to say from where you come, where I have been?
The things she cannot know, she cannot tell.

       Oh, gentle ghost, I fail deep in your eyes,
         into a death that never truly dies.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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To Live in Heaven

The two kinds of sins are Original and Actual Sins
Original Sin is what we inherit our first parents, Mama Eve, Papa Adam
We are brought into the world with guilt on our soul
Original Sin was transmitted by natural generation to all his descendants
We are cleansed only through Baptism
The other kind is Actual sin
Actual sin is any willful thought, desire, word action or omission forbidden by the law of Eternal God
Chief sources of actual sin are Pride, Covetousness, Lust, Anger, Gluttony, Avarice, Sloth or Laziness
Actual sin or Daily Sin
We are cleansed only by the Sacrament of Reconciliation, Confession or Penance
We must first have the 3 initial sacraments
The 3 sacraments are Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Eucharist
Before the other 4 sacraments
To live in heaven with our Lord

5052014


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Simple

Simple to say I love you,
Hard to see in my sense.
Light or dark a past tense.
Sealed lips not one clue.

Collection cups are now due.
Penny's built my picket fence,
Many minds faceted or dense.
And each one I did surely spew.

I do stand here,
A bunch of mess.
You are over there,
Plenty that guess.

My hand is out and my head is down,
In my heart I hold your golden crown.

(C) Copyright: 2013  Ann Rich R.A.


Details | Sonnet | |

GHOST

      GHOST
Oh, gentle ghost, you come and then you go,
with puzzles of the past, unanswered still,
your fragrance calls to mind, things I don't know,
from every word you give, I take my fill.

Tis life's great tragedy, you'd have me wear,
for all the days and nights, I've left to hold,
but spirit brings the dark, and takes me where
I reach the all alone, not growing old.

Your beauty is my breath--my greatest sin,
and has your mother known you all this well,
to say from where you come, where I have been?
The things she cannot know, she cannot tell.

       Oh, gentle ghost, I fail deep in your eyes,
         into a death that never truly dies.
                      ©  ron  wilson


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festal dance


The mirror's image was a thought and wraith
their solemn instances to reproduce
Fall's auburn pictures of October eighth,
became in air the leafage of white spruce,

Her face diffused on an abandoned field
where solitude reminded of her smile,
advancing night on crayon black had sealed
their song the ferns recalled and distant isle.

The train advanced where its repeated thud
exchanged the fading lights for night's dark glance;
was their abandoned symphony's ballad
- embellished synthesis and festal dance?

Evanescent the train surpassed his stare
- befalling were the stars like vows of e'er.

© G.V. 06-03-2013 All rights reserved
(This poem has never been in a contest before.)



Details | Sonnet | |

Ulterior Song


Expanding lead, the songs to dome and lands unknown,
where ancient schemes and mysteries denote the search,
the foliage leaves announcers are and shadows grown
transmit to find the final ports where souls converge.

Along the cause, the reasons change on saddened dawn,
foretelling prophetess from skies implements lies,
about the souls' ulterior  route - of dark drapes drawn,
beside the will of the cold winds that spell demise.

The ghosts define with howling songs the nightly dark,
souls hark the calls inviting them where feelings flare,
and angels confer skyward trip where they embark,
while blurry visions of the tears reside in glare.

Along the sorrow of souls gone, serene and calm,
spreads up the chapels' knell salute to skies' realm.

© 03-11-2013, All Rights Reserved
(A hexameter sonnet)


Details | Sonnet | |

CIL MAOLCHEADAIR

    CIL MAOLCHEADAIR   (Kilmalkedar)
On such an Irish spring and drizzle morn,
she wandered through the graveyard, looking for
the Celtic dream from which her past was born,
and every sight brought her to wanting more;

she dreamt her roots from carvings on a stone
as if she understood each chip as real,
passed down to only her, and her alone,
from pagan worship she could almost feel;

and she could bundle them within her mind
to share with Pennsylvania kith and kin,
perhaps the magic, if still there to find,
would be an understanding where they've been;

and she will burn her candles every night,
hoping Kilmalkedar will make it right.
       ©  ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


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On summer moors


On summer moors the sea waves splash for years
the shadows draw upon the walls festoons
unspoken verse, conceived on silent piers,
the advent of our loneliness attunes.

That day of June remained our only feast
and minds' ascension to the astral reign,
blooms' multitude of fragrances released,
a purple thistle on the field and rain.

Remember me when lone stars shine and laugh,
hands held because of June's reminding call,
we celebrate this night on lonely wharf
and acanthine of solitude's dance hall.

...On every tenth of June my eyes embrace,
above the summer moors, your lines of face.

© 06-14-2013, G.V. All rights reserved



Details | Sonnet | |

Bending Time

Bending Time

Bending Time is an act that Spirits can do,
as easy as lifting your fork is for you.
See Time is their realm; it’s the world they live in,
each second to them comes and goes at their whim.

But Angels as Spirits know little of Space,
as they wing through the ages, unburdened by place.
Their now, and their then, and the future they see,
but touching an atom, for them, cannot be.

So too challenged is Man, from our limited view,
when we think about Time its through Space we look through.
Our world is all flesh, all matter, all things,
melding Air, Water, Earth, with a Fiery sting.

We are gifted it seems in this fabric of life,
as we carve and we cut with our own hand held knife.
 Man shapes his own space, constructing his nest,
just slaving away, pursuing progress.

Every nail, every screw, all the machines that we make,
all the air, all the food, all the forest we take,
means nothing to Time who just passes along,
bemused by the Angels and their perfect sung song.

All the things that you hold, are soon gone to the past,
what matters man makes, can never long last,
fore Time is eternal and Space it is not,
what breathes and does eat is destined to rot.

But since substance is space, it needs time to evolve,
to improve for the better, it’s man’s mission to solve.
All those visions you have as you toss and you turn,
are timeless taught teachings, God wants you to learn.

It’s with Spirit’s great mind you are guided through Time,
it’s not straight, it’s not curved, its not even a line.
It’s a dimension you see, a transfer of sorts,
where Time, Space, and Thought all open their ports.

Know your world’s always changing through the toil of your Soul,
“As You Think, So You Do,” it’s your God given role.
Quell your self-centered Ego.  Who can truly say “My”? 
Let Time talk to your essence, whispers Love to your “I”.

You must trust in the Angels that ride timeless wings,
enlightening your Soul, heed the truth that they sing.
All the thoughts of the ages, all the wisdoms so true,
are yours for the learning when Time echoes through you!

                                               Sam Shada 
                                                            2013


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from slopes to brines


She waited on the skyline, bloom and thorn
accordment of their oaths and thoughts at night
annealed recited entity - vows sworn
- the brave ascended to the Halls of light.

War-bullet traveled through the frozen air
companion loved - his stare embraced the ferns
- the laurel and the sage ascribed his fair
the stalwart chose the path of moon and ernes.

Dim lantern's flame her thought - on peaks beseech
ornate the winds surpass the granite plate
denounced the corteges and oaths to breach,
her highness steps, adorned demise, third fate.

And in the mists when winds bemoan in pines
their solemn words will fly from slopes to brines.

© G.V. 06-05-2013


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Taller than the winds


The solemn lives on skyward paths ascend
their pass on fields aside the Mistral tunes,
ambrosian solitude, to skies' transcend
confreres of sweeping winds and smiling moons.

You'll live in solitude when sail boats brail
remote and strong then you'll transform to shades
expatriated on your dreams lost trail
- your unattended feasts no time abrades.

Amid the shades be taller than the winds
when slopes receive your soul's' disruptive flow
will be the carmine spring that weaves rescinds
betrothment that the runnel wraiths bestow.

The baptismal winds' mystery refrain
ascending, taller makes your soul than rain.

© 06-29-2013


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Crow II


He knows the fog that counts his steps tonight
So proud, the crow, stands on the wires, alone;
what made him bleed before the brinks of light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?

The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
"this shroud descends your being to enfold".

Ethereal, departs on his ascension trail,
stouthearted is his life's long path, my Lord;
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil,
his stalwart wings on Mistral's wailing chord.

And infinite became his nightly flight,
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.

© G.V. 06-11-2013 All rights reserved
(English sonnet)


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Immortal Love

Tease, tempt and test, my love. And I shall react,
Reach and reign, my love. Give me guidance, lest
I wander, substituting lust for authenticity. 
Inscribe your insignia upon my soul. Lay claim to
Love, as if to sigh your last breath, for I’m 
Embedded in the substratum of your spirit. Thus, 
Spoil me with your matrix. Entice me with your 
Charms. And I shall titillate, tantalize, and satiate 
Your person, for mutual seduction is the art of 
Lovers, and we have loved since the days of 
Genesis. Thus, ours is immortal, my love, extant 
As an apocrypha, but hidden as the root of 
Eternity. Let manifest the fruits of love, for we are
Bonded as the pillars of a shelter, destined for love.    






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Oxford Blues


Atop the seas where mists descend and waves high meet
the flare of stars, that draw details where verses hang
and send enounced spring's sightly messages to greet
the Oxford skies of notte blue and eyes unsung,

splendiferous the ocean moons illuminate
above the passages of ships that mettlesome
advance beyond the skylines and scopes equate
multi-dimensional expand with diesels' thrum.

The nautilus become gray shades - in haze to wave
and colorful their messages on winds shall die
it is their voice in nimbus gray to fade and crave
the dancing layers of cold rains and winds' war cry.

Above the fields and seaward trips of compassed routes
on skyway paths the thoughts ascend and Oxford blues. .

© 05-10-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
(A hexameter sonnet)


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Redeem

Redeem

The silver clouds fled high, above the fair;
analogy of rainfall was and bliss,
the boats were swaying their unearthly prayer
like coffins cradled they above abyss.

Exploding foam his smile became and oath
with blooms of red the fates regaled Spring's knell
the main mast ropes and sails became his clothe,
communion hush he drunk, from Faith's dark well.

And in that stillness he regained her grace,
conceived soul's amvon to sustain her glance,
invited by her verse and rains' embrace,
a Stygian sermon was her offered chance.

That night the boats returned his childhood dream
to coves of their liturgical redeem.

© 06.10.2013 G. Venetopoulos
(Sonnet)


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The Container

February 06, 2007

 

 

The Container

 

 

Contained around me is a wall you see.

Thick layers of molten and rock are here.

But the wind is what keeps bringing near.

And the Stars keep telling me to be me.

 

Shining down is a light that just might be.

Followed by decades and decades of year!

And swallowed up by all might for a fear!

Whisked away they were shining as they flee.

 

The Sun set ever so high.

And the Moon peered out.

You could reach the sky,

And knew what it is all about.

 

You do know it’s the restrainer?

Collecting contents in the container!

 

 

© Copyright: Ann Rich   2007


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A Treasure Is He

                                         A  Treasure  is  He
Born  is  Our  King
To  save  the  world
A  jewel  of  Grace  
His  wisdom  a  Pearl
Dear  Lord  I  swirl,  to  hear  Your  word
The  best  news  in  all  the  world.

Jesus  Messiah,  Grace  behold
A  spirit  we  feel  
Precious  as  gold
He  came  and  He  gave 
 His  very  soul
As  the  prophets  of  old  foretold.

Your  Name  most  High
Your  Fame  reached  the  sky
We  look  up  to  You
And  so  we  try
To  give  You  our  all  before  we  die
We  come  to  meet  You  Oh  Lord  on  High.




From  Time  before  time
God   Had  us  in  mind
He  formed  and  designed
In  His  image  defined
He  gave  us  our  mind
He  reformed  and  refined
Oh,  our  God  is  so  divine.
                                                                (CHORUS)
We  thank  You  Lord
Yes  we  thank  You  Lord
For  coming  to  us
In  Your  Name  we  trust
We  are  grateful  to  You,  oh  Lord.
                                                                


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The Heart of God

My God, almighty God, the heart of God.
I burst with words that fill my heart of hearts.
A love it dawns and fills my holy rod.
It zaps, it zooms. A ray from God it starts.

My God, almighty God, the heart of God.
A love to you will never come to doom.
A angel sings of love to God I nod.
To heart, to heart, a light of God does bloom.

My God, almighty God, the heart of God.
I see the love of God. It shines on through.
In paths and ways the devil climbs, but shod
And clean is true my love of God and crew.

My God's the way, the truth, the life, not strife.
The heart of God does pierce with rays of life.


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double deuce of dice


The synthesizers sell at the bazaar
like shiny colored marbles, roll their eyes
condemned dead hounds compose their bets bizarre
- their innate wrongness' double deuce of dice.

Submit your faith before the roll of deuce
the Purgatory clown's enchantment girds
behind the shades immodestly will sluice
with detrimental and distracting words.

Become a client at the slaughterhouse
where cravens cackle poison dripping drops
the monster sucks the others' life to douse
inside malevolence - his belly flops.

The clown promotes false hopes at the bazaar
- distuned philosophy and hooks bizarre.

© G. V. 07-09-2013
(a sonnet against betting and gambling)


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A Minute to Midnight



the time clicks on amid the toil and pain
it never stops to pause with mercy now
and if it had a mind it'd go insane
and stop to wipe the sweat off of its brow

with eyes to see from ever since its dawn
time witnessed things that it and God could see
down through the ancient eras now long gone
destruction's path has never ceased to be

the beauty of an earth so rich and good
was made by God with love for humankind 
He held back judgment longer than He should
to give lost hearts a chance to change their mind 

   the time is now a minute to midnight 
   look unto Him and He will give you light


September 8, 2013
Copyright © 2013 H. L. Smith


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The Scented Soul

The Scented Soul


I have encountered it before
wafting upon the breeze of life,
scent trail of a spirit’s being
aglow amid tormented night.

Phosphorescence of angel wings
flickering light of neon signs
celestial stick and apple chase
in search of colors without lines.

Thus does the gentle hint of spring
divulge the sweetness of bouquet
awakening from frozen heart
the prayers that icy hearts betray

attracted to the scent of soul
to bathe within its golden bowl.


Submitted to The Scent of Your Soul – Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Anthony Slausen
10/12/2014


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The Touch of Solitude

Oh! Solitariness you are the best pal ever
You accompany me in the recluse’s moment
And cover my secret realm with a divine pleasant
Sweetly you drive me to think much deeper.

All of a sudden, while I love to stay alone;
You advent to me and embrace me tight
Through you I find a world of delight
With you silently my life is going on.

When the gracious bliss of sweet solitude vibrate me,
I enjoy while in my balcony I sit lonely
I feel a heaven potency to discover myself newly
And my heart fills with pleasure and glee.

It’s an amazing nectar of solitude 
Which mysterious touch makes me screwed.


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No Nots

Splicing up time, a reflection did appear.
Cross my heart stick a needle in my eye.
These things I saw before us, you and I.
I tell you the truth, and I will pinky swear.

Your great lusts will be leveled in despair.
You will watch and witness a greater lie.
You will pine and pine to no avail so cry.
You will be emptied of your just and fair.

So carry this torch and pass it on,
Feel the flames and feel them sear,
For you have been branded a pawn.
So listen up because your time is here.

Great goodness was once your friend,
Your no nots do not mix a pure  blend


(R) Registered:  2013  Ann Rich


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A Paean to God

That the brilliance of your majestic ways
and fire that burns from your white-hot eyes
may give their light to space of infinite size 
and shine on all Earth's creatures' love and praise;
that the mercy you give to him that prays
for pious ways to keep his lips from lies,
for faith and grace to remain pure and wise
may give heaven renewed glory and raise;
that the millennial Kingdom's earthly time
arrives after end times' brief, labor pangs
and saves God's children from sin's filthy grime,
so they that were tempted by Satan's gangs
will live on in glory and in their prime
once Christ removes the Serpent's deadly fangs!


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a nice view

A Nice View 
 
My shed is full of stuff I´m not using and 
should, when get around to it, throw on
a skip. In the corner there is a golf bag
full of rusty clubs, a reminder of the days
when I genuinely tried to be middle class,
a family of mice live there now, their 
entrance is a hole in the bottom of the bag.
They are safe there and probably snug. 
 
On the left side of the bay in Cascais, there
used to be green slopes, now they are full 
of buildings facing the sea. Everyone likes 
to live where beauty is, nice view and green
slopes; they build houses there and roads. 
Just more golf bags far from the greens...    


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Kingdom Builders

July 31, 2013



Kingdom Builders

Holy Holy Holy I must say to all.
Long day hard day I am with you.
Hot day cold day it is for me too.
Days months or years you I call.

You have displayed my visual doll.
Multitudes of truth seeds you grew.
Spoken for as spoken words abrew.
I grant you the light in that dark hall.

Never say never!
Never look back!
I am yours forever!
I am with no lack.

I am always the hands of  filters,
Observing my Kingdom Builders.

(C) Copyright 2013  Ann Rich


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The Fast

By lamplight I feast upon holy words,
in the darkest hours of lingering night,
not another voice, nor a sound is heard,
but thy Spirit, Lord, bringing forth true life.
Sustenance and nourishment to my soul,
As promised, I live not by bread alone,
but by every word that thou has spoken,
satisfying the marrow of my bones.
The sure promise of thy deliverance,
my Savior in my greatest hour of need,
forever steadfast in thy faithfulness,
humbly I bow to you, upon bent knee.

If daylight does bring hunger upon me,
in truth, Lord, I only hunger for thee.


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Victory on earth as it is in heaven

We war not against flesh and blood
But do battle in the heavenly realm
For the battle is in spirit
And on earth the victory is found.

The prayers of the humble
Are heard upon high
Dispatching the angels 
To take up the fight

The battle is won when we become
Focused on the kingdom to come
And the will of the father to be done
On earth as it is in heaven

For those who are humble and meek
Will find what they seek.





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Secrets Of The Spider's Web

   SECRETS OF THE SPIDER'S WEB
The spice of life, a nectar to the heart
if one can find it, all the juices flow,
thorought all time, man's made this dream a part
of ev'ry way he wants his life to go!

With rings and potions, camels hair or eye,
and just a trace of kale that's come to rot
it cannot fail to bring the wanted high
for all who sip to gain all life has got!

The secrets of all time are just the chase
as sweet as honey to a baby's milk 
un-recognized when one is face to face
and bound as tight as any spider's silk!

Confusion plagues the minds who never see
how sweet the spice of life can come to be!
© ron wilson aka veebdosa the doylestown poet


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The fortunes of us all

No words of mine can potently display
the anguish and the joy that touch our lives;
yet all our ghostly forebears went this way
where words may pierce our hearts like sharpened knives.

No sentient being willingly at first
Accepts the pain that true perception brings.
Yet we must not take hearts to be a curse;
we need not flee from knowledge,though it stings.

Each day demands our thoughtfulness and love
from which all better action justly comes
each day the grace we have is just enough
as through the meta narratives we roam

For life' s but a true story we invent,
with passion and with purified intent


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Cherry Blossoms- Yoshino Sakura

Your beauty and delicate nature, indeed we cannot deny
Yet having such a short life span, you somehow eventually die
Like the transient nature of mist and clouds, you superbly reappear
Then breathtakingly take your time to freshen up the air

A majestic symbol of power, knowledge and spiritual pulchritude
Celebrated blossoms attained in Spring you've magnificently exude
You evoke an artistic comparison through your bright ruddy hue
And in the night when we're asleep your petals the skies bedew

Your flowers are nearly pure white, and tinged with the palest pink, 
Without hesitation you shrivel and fall before I could even blink 
Your spiritual and cultural significance is never an incomplete
Accompanied by your long weeping branches are flowers so very petite

So stunning and stupendously, you lay about the trees
And even when you've carpeted the ground, your beauty never cease




©RashanaKing2010


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The Greatest Tale of All

Grim trial and surrendered end not in vain
  Killed a Son and King mocked in crown of thorns!
Not Jew or Gentile would forget his name,
  Nor wash away that holy blood of scorn.
King to an everlasting possession -
  A kingdom come in the clouds of heaven:
Who, mute unto my own intercession,
  Feeds me on the bread and crumbs of leaven!
Show me the Truth...the Way...and hear my cry:
  Keep me from my wicked generation,
And lift me up lest you leave me to die
  In the wilderness of God's creation.
Was on the carried cross at Calvary
A holy man who lived and died for me?


              ------------------

This was written a long time ago. I have since
Been shown the Truth and the Way and I am 
Indeed truly blessed for it!


August 1992


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Crying Out - 2

Have my peccant daydreams seep away
Purged from my mind devoid all delay
Evaporate those thoughts like the mist
Wring as a sponge, oh LORD, with a twist
Have me absorb ideas you adore
Blessed visions soak deep to the core
Living water so pure for my soul
Please, fill me up, each pore, every hole
My thoughts are wrong, so done be your will
Your providence is far greater still
So, God, exchange, my sin with your grace
Each transgression, remove every trace
Though my frail mind compels me to turn
With drowning pain, my life, you did earn.


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by rites

by rites we come into now
by rites we leave into then
by rites we mark the in between
by rites maybe we start again

by rites we say "I love you"
by rites we bring on progeny
by rites we launch into unknown
by rites we cleave dichotomy

by rites we celebrate today
by rites we mark contrast
by rites we are carried away
by rites we remember the past

by rites we reverently resolve
so, by rites kept, life revolves 

© Goode Guy 2013-01-04


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Go To Hell

Engulf such attention, Lucifer lurks,
Surrounded by beauty, Lucifer looks,
Somehow, like last moments, the body jerks,
Becomes still, station of so many hooks;
What purpose, what purchase is herein gained?
It's more or less total accumulates,
So, how does one treat that which has been stained?
By some quarter-coin-machine amulets?
No gap, no space, no hollow claimed your own,
Hell's it's own existence, it swallows whole;
I know no better, down to dead-tired bone,
It's all 'bout plastic soul, babe, plastic soul;
  Wholesale hunger overwhelms any hint,
  Details are the Devil, hid in small print.
   

    


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Henry IV: Prerogative and Piety

Enterprising Henry IV declares suzerainty over state
Xenophobic princes seek the royal prerogative to abate
Cautious king uses diplomacy, threats his minions to subjugate
Old rivals in Saxony Henry's consolidation with tyranny equate
Morose princes in the hinterland seek to avoid a similar fate
Manic King Henry sends his forces the opposition to eradicate
Unifying his kingdom, Henry dispatches puppets, builds forts his 
subjects to ingratiate
Nouveau Pope, Gregory VII, seeks his spiritual fiefdom to 
accentuate
Invoking ban on German King's power to bishops nominate
Calculating King refuses to cooperate with this diabolical dictate
Arrogant Pope responds to Henry's disobedience with a writ to 
excommunicate
Terrified, Henry performs penance to wipe clean the slate
Ecclesiastical mantra restored; Pope Gregory VII absolves the 
humbled magnate 
Demeaned but not demised, Henry continued to temporal, spiritual 
power appropriate