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abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
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angel anger
angst animal
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change chanukah
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children chocolate
christian christmas
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december dedication
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for him for kids
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funny funny love
future games
garden gender
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girlfriend giving
god golf
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good night goodbye
gospel gothic
graduate graduation
grandchild granddaughter
grandfather grandmother
grandparents grandson
grave green
grief growing up
growth guitar
hair halloween
happiness happy
happy birthday hate
health heart
heartbreak heartbroken
heaven hello
hero high school
hilarious hindi
hip hop history
hockey holiday
holocaust home
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horror horse
house how i feel
howl humanity
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hurt husband
hyperbole i am
i love you i miss you
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inspiration inspirational
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joy judgement
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life light
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loneliness lonely
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lost lost love
love love hurts
lust lyric
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marriage math
may me
meaningful memorial day
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mental illness mentor
metaphor middle school
military miracle
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missing missing you
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mother mother daughter
mother son mothers day
motivation mountains
moving on mum
murder muse
music my child
my children mystery
myth mythology
name native american
natural disasters nature
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rights river
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rose roses are red
rude sad
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Long Baptism Poems

Long Baptism Poems. Below are the most popular long Baptism by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Baptism poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |

Dear Neighbors

Dear neighbors,

I realize we have not met,
other than the guy next door
but that doesn't really count
cause that was just to put up a fence between us,
and I have met Marvelously Mad Mike,
behind me, on the River,
but primarily because I could not run away fast enough.

Regardless,
I want to invite you over
for kind of a potluck neighborhood open house party.

Just come as you happen to be at the moment,
bring something to drink
and, oh yes,
something to eat that you would consider politically and economically
and, oh yes,
nutritionally correct.

But not to worry,
we will have political correctness exams
at the front door,
prior to gaining admission,
unless you would like that of course,
in which case
perhaps I should mention,
so as not to become justly accused of hidden agendas,
I would prefer to disclose
a politically correct completely open agenda,
and that probably goes for your porky political
and/or porkless spiritual beliefs too.

If you want to talk about how I really should get myself Born Again,
if only for the life insurance values,
I will almost certainly agree
that I hope to dream deep rich baptisms of fire
and rain
and wind every night
to be reborn again each morning,
except on those too-rare occasions
when I could theoretically have baptized myself
in erotic dreams
to awake feeling less reborn,
more uncompleted,
heuristically speaking,
of course.

Nor would I drop a jaw
were you to explain to me
why I should aspire to transcendent mysticism,
the rather imprecise feedback
I get from my defiant kids
right after they rob me blind
or lie to me as if I were senseless
and preferably more transcendent
and mysteriously preoccupied with larger issues
of climatic change
in Great Political-Economic Scientific-EcoTherapeutic Transition,
and not so much
these smaller political and economic 
most uncooperative and unmindful transactions.

Lest you fear I may have some hidden political,
or, god forbid,
some cultish religious-fundamentalist agenda,
rather than a party smorgasbord
and self-entertainment and -governance menu,
with issues that march along
some more Traditionally Orthodox Party Line,
perhaps scripture lessons on how to invest heart beats
and wise inhale-exhale breaths of bicameral mindfulness,
allow me to expose
my polypathic proclivities as a Taoist-Christian.

This T-C is a hybrid line,
somewhat like U-U,
which is, for some weird regenetic reason,
also dialectically like dipolar U-C nutritional health balance,
going back to both Eastern and Western shamans.

So, nothing is supposed to surprise us
except the absence of bad news,
and even then
we are not to let on,
pretending that we have been predicting this,
the continuing advent of good TaoBalancing news all along,
sort of permaculturally,
but usually,
and preferably,
only to those who would be most certain
not to take us seriously,
too deeply,
too unliterally,
too radically through fundamentally fractally,
so long as they treat us as shamans
and not the more totally insane polypaths,
terrorized by emerging voices of climatic anger
and silos of echoing foggy fears
about ego's future emptiness,
absence of life-becoming.

So, not to worry,
Taoist lies before the hyphenatic Christian,
meaning Radical Revolutionary Christian.
We are so radically revolutionary
that we believe Christianity should declare its mission statement
as 100% self-perpetuatingly regeneratively replete,
and now move on to more globally optimizing multicultural issues,
like investing in more cooperatively nutritious politics
and active-cooperative-invested economic choices,
more teleologically ecologically bicamerally informed
by sacred-humane nondual TaoBalance
YangLeftHealthyNature-YinRightSpiritBiLateral EcoMentoring MessiahLight.

Tao EarthLoving Christians are so radically revolutionary
we believe good nature is always nutritionally kind
and we don't believe we should even (0)-sum ego-exist.
So, not to worry,
no evangelical intentions are allowed by Yin,
much as Yang would love to love you to death
with the LeftBrain Wisdom
of multicultural truths
as harmonic fractal-crystal beauty
of econconsciousness in fertile-octave light bilateral-cross-messianic frequencies.

Just come as you are
in your own light
with whomever you happen to have
hanging around at the moment you finish reading this.

Feel free to bring your pets 
and any tools you might have to share,
or just a list would be fine,
and I'm wondering if we want to exchange email addresses,
so there will be a sign-in sheet for those who want to include that,
and those who don't,
and please check off if you might be interested in collaborative gardening
this next spring coming up.

And if you or any of your accompanying tribe
has any skills or talents,
songs, dances, readings,
stories, drums,
other musical instruments,
except maybe not a tuba
because I'm just not that musically evolved
and I realize you could not laugh with me
while playing your foghorn of a tuba,
bring anyone or anything except a monopolistic tuba,
which really isn't a party instrument anyway,
for our cooperative skills and talent show.

Stay as long as we all like,
and can afford to live together.
I'm sure we have much to co-invest and celebrate about.

OK, you can bring that damned tuba, if you must.
Maybe I am being invited to evolve in some foghorn kind of way.

With gratitude.

G.O.D.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Sergio Silveira | Details |

The Volunteer, A Poem Inspired by HRH Prince George of Cambridge

'We have a future king to make,'
Said the deep, resounding voice.
'But it is not a proper fit for everyone.
For a king must know first how to obey than to command,
And to abide rather than reign.'

'And thus, I need a volunteer.'

The eager little voices swiftly gathered ‘round.
'To have a throne and my own crown,' said a little voice with delight. 
'A great palace for my home,' cried another, 'or a castle with tall ramparts.'
'I’d be above all others,' said yet another, 'that would surely ease one’s comparing mind;'
'And best of all, to be revered by everyone and through all time!'   

'Don’t fool yourselves with thrones and crowns,' said a little voice from the side,
'Do not haste into a choice you may regret for all your life!
I’d rather risk oblivion and even want, but be free to choose my fate,
What is precious life for but to discover one’s gift and thirst?
You take that crown and throne, and you forever renounce the greatest prize you own!'

There were no volunteers at hand for that grand, distinguished life.
The once lively little voices now stood silent, with cautious glances in their eyes.
Yet they began to move a little, but not to volunteer their fates; 
Someone was slowly coming forward all the way from far behind. 
Soon, one single little voice stood ahead of all the others, and with a thoughtful stare, it spoke:

'I overheard a story once
Of a vast and balmy river 
That braves across cold, stormy seas
So it can meet a fabled shore
And become one with it.

'Wearied from its long voyage, 
It crashes beneath the sheer cliffs.
And as its froth caresses the jagged rocks,
It echoes the green, velvety meadows above
Which gently cuddle the harsh precipice. 

'The wee, babe-in-arms coming king 
Will hold that fabled shore in him.
For he, though one sole man
Will stand for an entire land.
And in choosing this destiny
Of that fabled shore I also shall be,
For it will be a part of me, 
And I, humbly, of it.

'And then, there is the brave lad who in sheer fright,
Gathered all his nerve and leaped into the dark night
Over the unknown enemy’s laird.
Oh, how I would leap into the dark along with thee!
Though he is now long gone, he will live in me,
And I, humbly, in him.

'And the family who huddled deep beneath the ground
Through the terrifying shudder of the enemy’s raging rounds. 
Then, to rise again, and not concede.
I was in that shelter along with them,
And so were a million others who were yet to be!

'Such as the young boy now walking to school on a quiet country lane,
To learn his Scott, his Shakespeare, his Milton, and his Keats.
I will follow him close behind, and my own feet shall grow within his footprints.
It takes no less than each of them to make a king, 
And not more than lacking one to lessen him.
For a king, though one sole self, stands for all, 
And all do stand for him.

'I know that in choosing this path, 
I’ll forever relinquish command of my compass, 
And may never find out what I could’ve become on my own, 
Or what my true talent may be.
I will follow, instead, a course that has long been set,
By others, and not by me.

'But I have a strong hunch 
That if I don’t put myself first,
Or what I feel I’m entitled to do and to have,
And choose, instead, to be fair, as best as I possibly can, 
To those for whom I’ll be honored to stand,
I’ll eventually know who I really am; 
And will meet, one day, the man I am meant to become.'

'Thus, I volunteer 
To be the child who’s one day to be king.'

A newborn day blazed in the distance,
And a transformation was about to take place, 
As momentous as the invasion of spring,
The rising of the harvest, or a mighty winter gale.
Nearly two thousand babies were coming to life on that land, 
From that land, to that land, for that land, 
And a single one amongst them exalted all. 

Half a world away, a vast and balmy river 
Was setting out on its long voyage to a fabled shore,
And nearby, radiant sunlight battled gray, stormy clouds,
So as to break through and paint in brilliant and broad brushstrokes
The lofty Highlands below,
And thus, be reborn as shimmering glens and moors.

Copyright © Sergio Silveira | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Taoi Chanan | Details |

la la di dah dah la

Earth dwelling mongeese are neither toys nor coins and pedalling backwards then forward is not considered the primary way of jet propulsion off a very high hill. So one two ping means fried rice coming? How long for? Will it rest a while? On a sofa or a couch? It is not particular. When passing trade tickles the fancy if the local gentry then sentries can be posted at doors. And savouring a little bit of currant pie is a fantastic idea in an afternoon soiree. Quite pleasurable really. Resolution reaching radiuses rather radically. How observant is a door frame. How sectioned are the audio reactive wave arches? A temple in a bean burger and a pistol in a frilly night gown. Oooh look a diamante leaf tiarap bending and freeing captured twigs. How rather nice and polite it is. Framework fashioned fixated first fleeces found foundations. And the tail arch from a tailrace is very very very quick and versatile too. Mingle with the moons in a bowl of white leaf soup. And dip feet into puddles to correct erosions of toes. Then upon rising chanting to windows can often display a timely workout in a garden gym. Pushing plants. Wearing weeds. Standing soils. All whilst wearing a Bhatia hat of fine distinction. But to ascertain whether the verb flies south is to organise a noun in a pleasure dome. Not fun. Not good or useful. In fact it is quite unnecessary. In an era measuring two minutes it is wise to be a bee than a mildew. And a tidal force can operate the machinery. So never rely on the symbolic codes on a screen. Point now. Go on point. It is the point that places the cuckoo clock. On the hour song. On the hour chime. Spare not a dime nor a pound for a disturbed crocodile face on a yacht. Travelling. In a pair of white shorts and shirts. Pristine. Cleaned daily. Ha ha said the passing whale. It would be great to knock into the boat and spill the red drink over the oversized frames of those greedy obnoxious humans. They sail around whilst people on the ground over there forage for fodder on the floor like ants. Such fun. Then whale glides away. Monotony does not sit well with whales you see. And a flurry in a hurry is a passing shoal. Ants attempting a backflip to entertain should be stripped and whipped and put in front of the high queen. Then doomed to a life underground removing faeces from carnage brought by the open dwellers. Link not a laughter. And heel clicking is best performed upside-down in the artic circle in a thunderstorm. Plaintiffs plainly play political polo politely and the zoo opens the doors to the wilds for the flood arrives when temperatures dip. The incessant chatting from the thermometer changes and argues with the satellite dish. Woof said the dog in a garden bake sprawled. By a small square empty pool. With a crack. Boil no brow said a fountain in the town. It is here I stand proud. Although I was erected upon ancient graves. I do not care for that. I am delicate and handsomely carved. Curators cheat chickens chatting charging chimes chopped. And the wide angled dish of tomatoes can be located at the west of the supermarket. Ding dong. Eastern smell and a drafty curtain bringing spices unto the streets. Wow. Generalistic genocide gearing gaining goblets. And a wide tooth or pincer works best in the snow than a tongue. Please do be aware that when an eel dons snow boots it is time for the skiing competitions. Worldwide. Of course worldwide. No country is ever omitted in a nature contest. And nowhere to be seen is the mangled mish mashed heaps of fortified blaming brigades. Duel duality daring deviations during denominations. And joining in wisdom spanning decades appropriately. Tailoring hop of a seven foot cloud. Grinning angelic and demonic orchestrations of a circular formation dancing. Whirling. Wow. Fantastic isn't it. Free souls of men. Radius of watery eyes weaving. Hahahaha bookings boy bootjack boots. Hahahahahahah wisdom whirlpool xxxxxxx coniferous clambering clam xxxxx deforestation destitution z

Copyright © Taoi Chanan | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Shaila Touchton | Details |

Jesus Christ A Perfect Sacrifice

Jesus is the word of God, through him all things are made
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, 
And the Word was God
The Word became flesh and dwelt among us
So that we could behold God's glory
He came to the world to love us and deliver us from all sins
God was revealed visibly through Jesus Christ

He is holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens
He redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us
He shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners
The sacrifice of animals could never take away our sins
Jesus offered the perfect sacrifice for the sins of the world


Jesus received blasphemous false accusations from the world
He was denied, abandoned, mocked, was arrested and bound.
He was rejected by his own hometown and was asked deceitful questions.
He was ridiculed by his own family members, he was blindfolded, beaten
Struck with blows, was arrested, wounded, bruised unaccompanied by his accusers
He was falsely charged, chastised, endured stripes, oppressed, led to the slaughter
Cut off from the land of the living, he was abused by the roman soldiers
He was scourged, put on a crown of thorns on his head, a reed in His right hand
Struck Him on the head with the reed
The soldiers striped him and divided His garments, nailed on the cross
He bore his own cross and was crucified.
The chief priests with the scribes mocked and sneered at him

Jesus paid a debt of sin that He did not owe
We owed a debt of sin that we could not pay
Jesus came to serve, to take away the sins of many people
He willingly paid the ultimate sacrifice for the sins of the world
Our sins had to be paid with Jesus blood
Without shedding of His blood there is no remission of sins
He took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows
He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities
He died on the cross as our perfect, unblemished, unspotted substitute
Who did not suffer for his own sins, but for the sins of others
Like a lamb that is led to the slaughter
He is the perfect Lamb without spot and without blemish
He is The Lamb of God who took away the sins of the world


He made a peace between God and man through His death.
To reconcile to Himself all things, 
Whether things on earth or things in heaven
Through His blood shed on the cross
We have been made holy through his one perfect sacrifice
We are saved and redeemed by His blood
Our sins are forgiven and we are justified through His blood
We have eternal life, communion and fellowship with God
Through His blood
He who follows Him shall not walk in darkness, 
But have the light of life
For He is the way, the truth, and the light
The resurrection and the life
He is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever
He is the one who baptized with the Holy Spirit

Jesus is our advocate, our comforter
He is Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation
He sent us ANOTHER comforter which is Holy Spirit
Lord Jesus Christ is the comforting Holy Spirit
And we must not grieve the Holy Spirit of God
For we are sealed unto the day of redemption.
For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form
But laid aside his mighty power and glory, 
Taking the disguise of a slave and becoming like men
God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, 
Seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles
Believed on in the world, received up into glory
He was manifested to take away our sins
And in him there is no sin
For Jesus Christ is in the Father and the Father in him
The Holy Spirit is the spirit of God which is the spirit of Jesus Christ
For Father and Jesus are One
And Salvation is found only in Jesus Christ.

Copyright © Shaila Touchton | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Nina Mindova | Details |

Sea impression

                 
                 Wave a sea softened
                  and a pain and a tenderness
                   throw dreams in fascination
                   of the blue.
                   And let shave the waves of
                   Your eternity , oh, weigh
                    above me,
                    oh,weigh a  coast of years.
                    Carry far in azure, spiral
                    ships,
                    with bulging little abdomens,
                    flutter with mahagony pinions
                    and already in vain  expect you
                    to stop the scales harbours 
                    with hot flames for You are
                    open.
                    Far away, far away ,far away,
                    stretched string,
                    heart and frank await the 
                    hymn of June.
                    All sea sisters are dressed in
                    mother-of-pearl garment
                    embroidered of kiss of 
                    eternity. 
                    In the morning hunts them
                    fishermen and revive with
                    breath of their man’s hands.
                    In the evening girls wash 
                    their black tunics,
                    in their blue hearts,
                    their feet white ,who cadge
                    heavy chains.
                    The night is squeezed enigma
                    and ugly,
                    predatory like a bat pecking
                    of scarlet fig.
                    Sea sisters, sea sisters,
                    remember His steps 
                    which go through you noiselessly,
                  and ou swing like
                  bloody wine-
                 hold in His fingers Herod,
                 Pilate washes his hands,
                in Yours heirs
               and they bristled like winter
               icicles bristles of innoncent blood .
               There at Golgotha 
                hearing terrible cry,
                blood gushes like
               wounded river disappear
               like Easter roses,
              in weeds of flushed 
     preditory crowd,
     to open way of
     saving.
     Who is He?
     Do you heard 
     His name ?
     He is Messiah,
     God’s anoited
      Jesus Christ.
      Like little sheeps,
      clouds of candy floss,
      they welcome festivaly.
       Barefooted are feet 
      of lovely swarthy steps
     of the sun, came to bow,
      before You , Creator.
      The sea throws his 
       magnificent silver flesh,
      blue like heavently lace,
       to swallow all stars 
       only Bethlehem’s
      stays inextinguishable,
       pretty like uncreated
      like an apple of not 
      born girl.      

Copyright © Nina Mindova | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Mike Liquori | Details |

I Held Marys Hand

I Held Mary’s Hand 

I held Mary’s hand as John covered his face,
So still,
At Peace,
Faded are the slapping sounds of the whip against his flesh,
Gone now are the shrieks as his crown was pegged into her child’s head,

I felt her hand, as it twists into mine, 
Warm,
Dry, strong to the touch.
As the arms release, her grip is firm, ridged,
As if hers are the spiked arms being released, free from pain

Her tears roll, 
Silent, still,
As her son is now

Shrouded body moves like a holy ghost,
The linen and cotton, dotted with the sin of man,
Mary awareness, that they not know what has been done, 
The future,
Presented in their presence and decided with each lash mark,
Each step of the walk with 300 pounds of wood nailed to fashion the Christ cross,
Foretold this day to her,
All the years before

I held Mary’s hand as we walk to the tomb of our King of King’s.
I see her resolute,
No fear of our future,
Brilliant in the light of God,
Mourning the natural, 
The body,
Her Son, her boy, her baby
Now Devine providence for us all,
In his sacrifice,
Her sacrifice, as told to her all the years before, 

I held Mary’s hand,
As the Stone closed,
Sealing in the body, 
Releasing the spirit of the Christ-Child,
Tears dry by the kicking sands and dust of which all men will return.
Stoic we look upon the dotted trail,
Our long winding road back thru perdition

I held Mary’s hand as she leads me,
Pulls us to our destination,
Alone,
Resolute our steps gain purpose.

Divinity and destiny intertwine to our hope’s yield,
Everlasting Salvation. 

Step by Step,
The confidence and purpose,
Re-delivered as if the Spirit, 
Advising of the greatest of gifts,
By God,
Would be delivered from Mary,
As the vessel,
To one day go back to the Alter of God,

Each step rekindles the awareness,
Realness,
The divine need for all this to happen,
For the upcoming Majesty,
Behold the power of Gods mighty hand,   
As told to her all the years before, 
In the light of the spirit, 
Of the holy divinity to come

I held Mary’s hand 
As we eat unleavened bread, sipping from the cup,
Waiting and listening, the shock of her son’s disciples,
Explaining the sight their eyes will not believe, 
When the arm extended,
 Hands open and out,

I held Mary’s hand as we move past time, space and place. 
I show her the words of her son, spreading across the lands,
I show Mary the hymnals, 
We hear the choirs of angles singing, 
Wrapped in their robes,
The praised sounds that are holy ode’s of joy

I held Mary’s Hand,
As we enter….
Together seated next to God.

Copyright © Mike Liquori | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Details |

The Intensifying love story

The Intensifying love story by 
Madhavi.S.Pagare
 
I simply adore you, my Mesmerizing 
Persona.
As you are my first love.
Who lighted my heart with full of pride and 
joy.
Who ignited the ecstasy towards lovely life.
Who relieved my pains and took sorrows 
as boon.
You made me fall sick in your love when I 
see your madness.
I like the way,
The way you gazed at me and my smoky 
eyes.
The way you smiled at my mystifying and 
enigmatic appeal.
The way you every time praises me.
The way you galvanized me and proved 
the meaning of life.
You are the one,
Yes, you are the one who aroused my 
feelings, my emotions.
Yes, you are the one who explored my 
passion of love, flaming in my charismatic 
soul.
Yes, you are the lovely treasure which god 
had baptized me.
Yes, you are the one who turned the page 
of my life.
Eureka, I found my true love!!!!
Bewilderedly I did not know, where is my 
love taking me to ??
But still I like the way,
Like, the way you clutched me into your 
arms.
Like, the way you kissed my palms.
Like, the way you hugged me, caressed 
me.
Like, the way you rubbed your fingers on 
my lips.
Like, the way you tickled me on my neck.
Like, the way you squeezed my cheeks.
Like, the way you holded me up towards 
the sky.
Like, the way when you inspired me to fly 
so high.
Tears dropped from my eyes and the very 
next moment I realized that it is my 
sensational love. My true love. Then I 
decided that no one had right to do this 
except you. If you want to know the 
reason?? If yes??
Yes, because I seriously fell in love with 
you.
Yes, because you are the one to whom god 
had assigned me to.
And here comes the Swifted instance 
when??
When, the moment you wore the golden 
ring in my finger and I was happily waving 
around.
Just can’t forget the time when our long 
lasting friendship turned into lifetime 
relationship.
It was just the blooming of two lover’s 
indicating the herald of the marriage. It 
means a lot for any girl in this amazing 
world.
And yes, you will always find my heart 
topped with love showered only for you. 
For you!!
And till my last breathe, my heart beats, 
beating for you, only for you SUYOG!!
In fervour I wanted you to be mine forever, 
forever.
We both sojourned in each other soul so 
deeply that we just can’t wait for a single 
second, unless and until, we share what is 
running in our mind. It’s just because we 
are so much accustomed to each other 
now. 
I Love you, adore you, adore you forever 
my Love.

Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by liam mcdaid | Details |

Princess Philomena 1

She who is the light and hope in love complete
I kneel in your grace
A story that really gripped me deeply
as my mother told me with such pride in her voice

Protectress of the most Holy living rosary 
she has preformed countless miracles
A young virgin who was martyred at the age of 13
She willingly gave her life to the heavenly sacrifice
daughter of light you shine heroic
Blessed with the virtues of purity,obedience and humility
the anchor of hope in deep dark despair
I promised someone really dear to me
precious in my heart with love
to write this story

She was the daughter of a prince stunning beautiful
coming from a small state in Greece
who her family became Christians 
in baptism she became the daughter off, light
One day while in the city the family went for an audience
with the great emperor, when he saw her 
he appeared possessed in his mannerism
during the whole time within conversations 
Now her father was dazzled with his honor
he willingly accepted his proposal of marriage
her father and mother tried everything to induce her to yield
to their demands she turned to them and said
I never break a promise once made
in the one she had made to Jesus
saying her virginity belongs to him
No longer can I dispose of it
They tried everything in their power
her father began attacking her in his own shame
in violent rage and anger and her mother tried to induce her to yield
they tried everything with her that was possibly know to them
Until both her parents fell on their knees begging
with tears that were overwhelming their eyes
pleading with her to please take pity on them
No was her answer final on the subject
she had vowed herself to God and her kingdom is in Heaven
She was brought before the emperor at the time
he flew into a mad violent fit of anger mixed with rage
influenced by the devil himself
He flung her into the palace prison
thinking to himself with pain and suffering
and with great shame in her courage he constantly attacked her
some which were almost fatal to her purity of blessing
had it not been for the hand and grace of God
Her prayers supported her 
those she made to the love of Jesus
and to her most holy mother with her only son
now being held in captivity 37 days in total
always in a heavenly mist of light 
Our Blessed most Holy Mother supreme through the eyes of all women
bride of our Lord the Father God the creator
our Blessed Mother appeared in a vision

this story continues on next write 3 chapters this all held me captive 



Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Details |

An Ellice Island - In search of KindRed Soul

Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of 
money, 
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul 
at this season.

Equatorial island exploring its amazed 
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake 
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted 
creativity,
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around 
charming moon.
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next 
hop.

Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my 
auspicious goal.
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma 
upcoming meet.

Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled 
synchronously.
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of 
romantic dictionary.
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.

At event of recreation, campfire were 
ignited.
Nobody around us, private moments 
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again 
meet.
Hand in hand danced with the soothing 
romantic theme,
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her 
fragranced cream.
Expecting the light around us to be dim.

The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand 
dame.
She looked too pretty in her gold lame 
dress, 
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are 
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!

Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.

Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white 
leather.
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel 
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout 
life in this lovely weather.

Will be your shadow, because your pain 
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a 
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry 
me, my Kindred Soul?

Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Olive Eloisa Fraser | Details |

OUR LIVING HOPE

Frozen tears through the years That you blew with your great love Into the water, I was cleansed Never thought it was more that Deep inside, only God knows All that I have gone through I was alone, yet I tried to be strong I hold on, hoping nothing will go wrong Silent tears I cried without pride Unbinding myself with all that lie Quenching myself from all that wry Freeing myself before I'll die Your death, You took without further ado You redeemed me that I believe is true Into Your resurrection, You give me hope A living hope that leaves me to dare cope Need I ask for more? Need I ask for more? for more.... Yes.. oh Yes I want to ask more... Little that I know Until now that You alone are my Living hope... Forsaken before... Forgotten core.. yet, still still.. like a rushing wind you came, calming and filling me With a burning passion You only can give as Your Spirit saturating me Every fiber that makes me human. Making me whole making me new... its no ritual.. its not because to be belong nor its a procedure but because because.. its a need.. a crawling screaming growing need from within... My Living hope.. As into the water I will be immerse So thus like You before buried from injustice but resurrected and so I am my old self will be long gone and done.. for new beginnings... And I will rise.. I will rise... I know and I believe.. I have declared publicly, that You. Its You that's all that I want now.. I want now... (c) Olive Eloisa 1:05pm June 23, 2014
Note: This is inspired with the greater understanding of the rights of Baptism.. All religions, (from my opinion and from what I read) to enter,, is to undergo one Baptism. In my life, I have undergone two Baptisms of which these two: the first because I am a baby and so innocent of what is it. The second, when I entered my elementary years and it is a requirement. although, I learned some of the meaning of why there is this and some of the meanings of the symbols.. but it's until later that I have known and I have a wider understanding of what this is to me spiritually... Its not merely to be belong, or be used to be accepted to some certain degree or to gain better status but the mere fact that its the declaration of faith, the acknowledgement of your beliefs and trust and more to experience... to experience the greater meaning of this serious solemn act... :)

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Fraser | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems