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Best Pastoral Poems

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Premium Member Poem | Details | Pastoral Poem | |

From My Porch

After the end of a long hot day
At the end of my rope -  with nerves all frayed
I sat on the porch…to rest a spell
As the sun slipped… slowly behind the hill

Calmed…by the lingering…after glow
I watched…the summer night unfold

Crimson streaks…on a sky of blue
Melted…in a thousand…different hues
Got lost…in the dark…without the light
Leaving…just their shadows…in the night

And in fields…of clover…across the way
The crickets…began…their serenade
As fireflies danced…with sheer delight
Glowing…in  love…with this summer night

And there…ahead…at the end of the road
Above the bridge…where the river flows
It rose - like magic - before my eyes
An orange moon… so big…it filled the sky

Author:  Elaine George

Premium Member Poem | Details | Pastoral Poem | |

God's Kind of Poetry

O ever changing sky, blue-gray and maudlin
your mood and unsettled ways, meld with mine.
Clouds seem but blemishes upon horizons
as weary as the soot smudged cheeks of urchins.
Bruised in hues at once fresh with pain and longing,
not yet healed by the riper rise of next day’s bloom.

O ever changing sky, the nascent forest’s buds.
Its lashes linger in the purple poignancy of dusk
and whip thy brow with thrashing maple limbs.
Eyeless vault of heaven cry for me, release my plight
erase with thy wonders this tattered visage so forlorn.
The sky of night holds many jewels of delight.

O ever changing sky, clear to crisper shades of sapphire,
ping with shooting stars and glowing diadems of light.
Let lavender blue soften my sorrows for I like Merope* 
need Orion’s might to lift my heartache, to point the way.
May thy constant rebirth give hope which melds with mine
and brings a beauty brighter than your Venus** to the day.



*Merope was Orion’s star crossed lover.
**Venus is the Goddess of Love and the Morning Star


| Details | Pastoral Poem | |

FATHER'S HEART

Mankind sees through human eyes and hearts-
                               that are oft times
                 untouched and rendered cold.
But as the Ancient of Days many foretold-
                  The hearts of the fathers will
                be turned back to the children;
And the hearts of the children will be turned back
                  to the hearts of the fathers.

Premium Member Poem | Details | Pastoral Poem | |

Painting a Pastoral Morn

cotton candy swirls dabbed onto an azure sky. . . sweet brushstrokes of dawn through green velvet fields a country lane meanders. . . dew paints the lilacs where the dirt lane ends leafy trees shade a cottage. . . fawns serenely pose For Gail Doyle's A Scenery Of Your Choice As An Artist Poetry Contest

Premium Member Poem | Details | Pastoral Poem | |

HUMBLING HABITAT

The gray exhaust of  twelve warm hearths
Chased the clouds into the afternoon sky.
There stood the stalwart mansion
At peace with its surroundings
And steadfast with its environs.
Beckoning an affectionate greeting
Just beyond the bridge, it appears
To give light the sublime levity
Of being a nuance of darkness.
Its façade is as prestigious and lucent
As a librarian’s bustline in her noblest estate.
Its walls of luminous windows
Sit still in a kinetic majesty of colors,
Like the yew tree in its bounty of crimson berries.

This refuge from the current disharmonies
Radiates from its midst an unheard music
And a conviviality suggesting a vicarious ecstacy.
Here, perhaps, is that first step in darkness
Of the empire prophesized to come,
Bringing its measureless song
Of the queen of the northern lights,
Whose monarch calms the most vociferous tempest
And warms the most bitter winter chill.
Here, under the clouds of mortal brevity,
Contained are the exotic reactions
To long suppers and golden evenings
From the replenishing of early traditions,
Beyond youth’s humblest dreams.

The twelve hearths fully aglow,
Fueled with only kindling atoms,
Tell of a future only they can know
And every human mind fathoms.
Within these high stone walls,
Lit by radiant lamps’ glare,
Every place an eye-beam falls,
There is the glory of confident flair.
           
                                                                                    




| Details | Pastoral Poem | |

SMILE OF PARADISE

A  bleeding heart sent me to bed
Tormented hot, by a lover's deception;
And in the folds of my blanket, cold as wet,
I sighed into sleep  of sad emotions.

In such momentary somnolence,
I beheld this face in a blooming garden;
A dazzling beauty, dignified opulence,
Which radiated a smile so open:

And as the doves whispered, my heart bloomed in bliss-
That smile that eased suffering for which I wept.
And from her soft and renaissant lips, words fell at ease;
" Welcome to paradise," and in such smile,I blissfully slept.

                **************

I staggered from my dream in lamentation;
Questioning its end, a sudden event;
But that powerful smile began to register,
and the words " Welcome to paradise," oh! the reminder!

Forthwith I tumbled  and wept to again behold
With a heart of bliss, that smile in  heaven's fold-
So everyday I went to bed praying in cries:
" God, permit me behold for once that smile of paradise."

              **************

Three months later in windy spring 
While I sadly tended my garden's hold,
I felt a breeze, softer than all its brothers, coming in sighs
And raising my head, I saw her plain, with that  SMILE OF PARADISE.

| Details | Pastoral Poem | |

The Pastors Wife

The pastors Wife

The Pastors wife strong and true,
With so many hats yet knows what to do.

Knowing she loves him with all her heart,
Always supporting him right from the start.

Supporting the Church and congregation,
a Blessed Christian leader of our great nation.

Making a difference in all our lives,
in support of our Pastor in all his great strives.

So we honor her today in every way,
with loving support on this Special day.



We Love and thank you Pastor Jamie

| Details | Pastoral Poem | |

Those Moments


        ******

I prefer to live in the
Ordinance of the Lord
Where truth and love
     Can be found
         ------
I long to Reverence
   In his Elegance
Where solutions' abode
        -Abound-      
In my Sorrowful Moment's
       Of need...
I-crave to see the light
    I pray to the Lord
             Everyday'...
To keep me threw the night

                   GF
'

| Details | Pastoral Poem | |

The Banquet

 
There is a special banquet
that shall be held for a King
Everyone shall receive an invitation
they are sent daily 
directly to you
not to look in your mailbox
for He shall invite all
even those without an address
He says come as you are
no need to go and buy outfits 
for He shall take notice of the inside
The address will be given
when you receive your invitation
for it shall bring guidance to find His home
no device man has created shall lead you there
no need to worry about transportation 
all will be provided 
will you come to celebrate with the King
there many shall praise and sing
Once you have opened your invitation
and know this is for you
Then this is how we shall be made acceptable 
for we shall not make it on our own
but to become less of what the world teaches
and become more like the King
The King shall be at the door
at this banquet only He shall let you in
he has provided a way for all to have access 
but many shall refuse and be left wandering
Will your name be on the reservation list
to attend The Banquet
This is the one invitation not to look past
for those who enter shall be home at last 

 

| Details | Pastoral Poem | |

a time to live

a time to live 
 a time to die
a time to laugh 
 a time to cry
a time to mourn
 they that died
a time to remember
 times we laughed and cried

who can recall the fullness of life
 the time when the fruit
they say has turned ripe
then time to harvest
 weather happy or sad
they pick the fruit
 and put it in a bag
it may be prepared
 for a wonderful feast
or preserved for latter
 when the harvest is weak

but to rot on the vine
 is a waste of Gods time
and sinful where usefullness
 was only deceit 
have they been missed
 by the harvesters hand
perhapes left for gleening
 their second chance

but rot on the vine
 is the devils delight
give nothing to anyone
 and stay out of sight
the time to give 
 is waning fast
we're constantly ageing
 with lives that won't last
opportunity soon becomes 
 a thing of the past
but the best come forth
 giving what they have

it seem's at times
 that they are taken from us
our gentle lambs
 we love and trust
but by Glory they are saved
 for a greater day
in the fullness of life
 they went away
from a time to live
 and a time to die
to a time to die 
 and a time to live

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