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Best Inspirational Poems

Below are the all-time best Inspirational poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of inspirational poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Inspirational Poem |

FORGOTTEN TREASURE-

FORGOTTEN TREASURE

I found the fountain of youth.
When I stumbled across the forbidden garden.
Right smack in the middle,
Was what I thought to be a wishing well.
I tossed in a quarter!
Looking down with a puzzled face.
I peeked to see where it fell.
I leaned over and that's when I saw my vanity.
It was always there waiting for me.
The reflection in the water was my face.
In wonder I asked what this vision could be?
With one drop on my taste buds.
I knew I found the one true key.
The most beautiful thing that can set one free.
I reached in to touch the poetry inside me.

      S.K.A.T. POEMS

re-post- first poem on the soup


Details | Inspirational Poem |

First Communion

The powdery snow gloves the fingers of maple forest protecting barren bark with the expectation of rose tipped bloom. A meeting point between pristine innocence and the veiled promise of spring ripening. Each trunk and limb mirroring the action of man Reaching, arching, swaying, creating aisles of church-like splendor, a sacrament where the virginal may walk toward communion with their God. Inward toward the birth of faith and outward toward the wedgwood sky in celestial sight.


Details | Inspirational Poem |

WHEN I STOP AND PRAY

When the storm clouds boil around me, 
And the lightning splits the sky--. 
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort, 
When I simply stop and pray.

When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.

There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.


Details | Inspirational Poem |

Of Ink

   Partial Paper
 -A poet in heat-

Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails

This part of you 
"A CAN'T BE REMOVED" tattoo
The tough skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking  words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger plus anger "GIVE ME MORE!"

You have a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions 
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet:  "Ink Never Lies."

Pretty pink acrostic ink when she's nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sung under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Ode's of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propagandas
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
((Only this, and nothing more))
Writing is like giving birth

by;)


Details | Inspirational Poem |

Footprints

Frothy waves stretch to kiss toes
Hikers plodding sandy coasts
Leaving imprints on the shore

Who journeyed here, perhaps this morn
As the orange orb created dawn
Summoning sun worshipers

Footprints far too large to fill
Descended down the shell-strewn hill
Then hugged the waves’ low tide

The retirement community
Sends scouts here daily just to see
If the sands of time still wait

Alas, they do, imprints remain
Sacrificed to sea when evening tide returns again


Their legacies erased each day
Another scout, another age
Will surely cast its prints anew


Details | Inspirational Poem |

A Letter Home To Rome'

My dearest Claudia, 

     For eighteen months, I've been at this Jerusalem outpost.
     "Tis you and young Julius that I miss the most.
     This wasn't the adventure I set out to seek-
     At least, not until this past week'
     
     A local rabbi rode a donkey into town,
     While people were throwing palm branches down.
     Many proclaimed Him to be their "King."
     The Jewish leaders vehemently denied such a thing'

     They arrested Him and a riot ensued;
     My squad was called in to get the masses subdued.
     Back and forth, they sent Him- through several mock trials.
     The prisoner maintained His silence all the while.

     "He's a traitor to Rome," the priest and leaders cried.
     And the crowd wanted Him crucified'
     A "Royal robe" they made Him wear
     Then His own cross He was forced to bear.

     With a thorny crown jammed down upon His head,
     It was off to Golgotha He was led.
     Lifted up between two thieves,
     The day turned black and I wanted to leave'

     Then I heard my Centurion say something very odd:
     "Truly this is the Son of God'"
     Buried in a borrowed grave- as if in a womb-
     I and my men guarded that tomb.

     Then some time during the middle of the night,
     The rock was rolled back 'midst a blinding light'
     

     In the morning some woman came to that "prison,"
     But two beings inside said "He has Risen'"
     This week's events have so drastically changed my life.
     That I was compelled to tell you of them, my beloved wife.
     
                                                                                           Your Husband Octavius




                                                                                     Arthur Ball (h.S.L.P.)
                                                                                     April 16, 2006


Details | Inspirational Poem |

Cycle

Dearest young leaf,
Why so melancholy?
Thy emerald sheath has not borne Time's folly.

Think not of Autumn's deathly brilliance,
Of colors rich and flaky grounds,
For Thou wilt weep every moment hence,
While Springtime's youth still bounds.

Greet Thy greenness with glee,
For thy root to the Oak remains strong,
Aeolus' fury on Thee has no effect till Summertime gone.

So worry not of what is to come,
Enjoy Thy existence, little one.


Details | Inspirational Poem |

Heritage

The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.


Details | Inspirational Poem |

Paradise

Beyond the hills of Auburn
Past the river, through the trees
I found a secret garden
Pretty as you please
A field of red corn poppies
Cosmos and blue bell
Candytuft and blazing star
Bedecked a wishing well
Scarlet sage and tidy tips
Covered a distant knoll
A quiet little gopher
Lies sleeping in his hole
Resting beside a trickling brook
Beneath the weeping willow
I have a bed of scarlet flax 
With yarrow for a pillow
Today, I was truly blessed
When a robin dropped me here
You see in any other place
A gardener I would fear
For I am but a lowly weed
That most would only shun
But in this secret garden
I am loved by everyone


Details | Inspirational Poem |

Why must I Cry

   I come to the garden along, while the dew is still fresh
on the meadows. Early in the morning do the bird's sing
praises of roses and peddles.  I cry, because there is no
refuge finally from the pain.  
    Yet long ago, a child was born, to become king, and yes
there is hope, just for believing in his name. Where is this King!
when I'm hurting and alone? He's just a prayer away, don't give
up, for he's Alpha and Omega, which means, just be strong!.
So they sent me to a place, to turn my life around. I cry, be-
cause, I am somebody no longer am I bound.
     Now I know that Jesus is my refuge and no more drugs is
there for I. Thank you Lord, for the method, that's "Why Must
I Cry".


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