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Inspirational April Poems | Inspirational Poems About April

These Inspirational April poems are examples of Inspirational poems about April. These are the best examples of Inspirational April poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |


white ribbons ascending upward,
becoming breath of blue sky.

shadows of angels shooting arrows
into the proprietor of daily peril.

silhouettes of songs circumnavigation
the moat around everyone's heart.

the areola around the moon's sphere,
and April's evaporation from morning rain.

the lattice of the earth encompassing 
and collecting the goodness of all.

Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:

Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.

He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.

After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.

In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.

Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.

He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.

Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.

On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.

Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.

His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.

In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.

On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:

‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’

Mahlangu died for a cause!


The Struggle Continues…

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |


   Who's that staring through my window walls, with eyes as old as time
the clock has not yet moved and the wind outside has died
no breath for me to find nor the strength to check the time
unless the minute hand is lying theirs a chance i may have died
I wish this all a dream but the eyes i see dont lie, they have told me with their watching that all men do really cry
yet in vain is all my wishing but perhaps this is delusion of a sedimentary man with his mind ripe for losing 
Come at me then red devil, I shout within my mind yet the tension I had hoped for was delayed and rather dry
no ravishingly velvet flame encircled this such room, nor were the furniture and ottoman  thrown like an old shoe
marvelous the time in which a demon throwns your home and his only one intent is to stare right through your soul
 to that i bid goodnight to you, to do as you wish, regardless of the manner I am nothing more then fish. to be shot out of a barrel for a fellow such as this
If you do deem it fit that I wake another morning all i ask is that the clocks all please return to working order

Copyright © chriss todd | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |


follow on facebook,
adore on pinterest,
fall in love on instagram,
kiss on a hunch,
all under a tree.

Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

The Righteousness Of Love

Love is a wonder shared by one another it's the only reason I'm not six feet under Love in which I believe in a will to sustain I give back to life, now in dormant states of pain The power of Love may not alone be enough locked inside my dreams escape only from above higher than any human being has ever gone before I must have evolved rise above hate, great once more My Father taught me wisdom I am imprisoned no longer now an beast not of burden I am no lion, I am stronger on my shoulder sits twin dragons long awaiting the day evil forces come forth to take what Love is left, away A Hero of Love light are what the world needs angels, not demons exist where ever you believe follow your heart's direction and you shall achieve objects of affection rid of materialistic greed My bright energy has awakened to a fire never consuming the source as the flames just grow higher that is the desire of a product we call Love Fear, the counterpart what I was once made of I am slowly learning how to win when my peace is harder to sharpen so I have given my pen leave the sword has its uses I must say I believe to vanquish the evil in the minds too diseased to serve any purpose except their own selfish ones tomorrow a new day in the clarity of the sun where we two are now one and one done now does bring about a great change lit by the righteousness of Love.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

An ode to the Unsung Angels

Written on 21st April 2012
By: Sashi. Prabhu (zeauoxian)
(This Ode is dedicated to the Administrative professional / Executive Administrative Assistants/Secretaries.  I dedicate this  to all the unsung champions who have worked selflessly in the shadows to brighten the futures  and then silently steeped away into the twilight of their lives without a ray of expectation in any form.)celebrate 25th april 2012 ,60th anniversary.

You make yourself graciously present from the beginning or start, to align processes and routines you pour out your big heart. No words or action suffice to thank you enough, You stand by and support through thick and thin when times get real rough. Your tips, guidance opinion and advice, are of utmost importance and cannot be gauged by monetary price. You can never be thanked enough, You really help mould your superiors and aid them to take on situations that are all rough. To work without you is sure as hell, In circles of times round and round without progress will superiors dwell. To work with you is a real pleasure, Your honed competencies, skills and ways of problem solving are a treasure. You simply slice the ropes (lengthy time wasting procedures) that curtail us, You battle the winds of change and interruptions for us to be in time to catch destiny’s bus. In the hustle and bustle of daily chores and routines, You execute work with precision by all means. In stormy weather you stand by with great strength for all to see, And when the chips are down you stand tall deep rooted like a tree. Your kind heart and beautiful mind is a combination rare, Every time we saunter or amble to our cabins you are there with a smile filled with care. We really appreciate your kind and generous ways, The order you bring with your overpowering yells and disciplinary displays. You are always there to be a part of a team, And back up everything to bring about into existence everyone’s “dream”. You come to my mind when I think of sharing, You come to my mind when I think of appreciating You come to my mind when I think of giving You come to my mind when I think of forgiving On this occasion would like to thank you once more, For all the things you have done and said open hearted and galore. Thank you so much for supporting and being a beacon of light, And it’s because of people like you many Executive futures have been made bright……..

Copyright © sashi prabhu | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |

Close your eyes and dream with me

Close your eyes and dream with me

the way things are suppose to be

the Love inside will set us free.

Close your eyes and dream with me

the way things are suppose to be

the burdens we carry lets share today

Lets do things in our Lords way.

Close your eyes and dream with me

lets walk in the way He made us to be.

Close your eyes and hear His voice

things are crazy in this world of pain

close your eyes and let Him lead

also help me see His truth in me.

My life bounces back and forth

close your eyes and dream with me

on how things are suppose to be.

Help us Lord to live free

in your way,please reveal

Your heart to me.

Close your eyes and dream with me

Take my hand and walk with me

to the ends of the earth

show our true worth

His love in us,

this is the way its suppose to be.

Close your eyes and dream with me.

Written by:©Betty Bolden

Copyright © Betty Bolden | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |

Out On The Porch Sunday April 10 2011

The cool dampness of the morn wraps its blanket around me inviting me come 
sit enjoy..The gap in the hedge row calls my name; come into the mist be 
shrouded and walk into the unknown as the rooster crows constantly stirring the 
air with their vocals..The sun with its yellow light of illumination ever getting 
brighter and warmer draws creatures of the sky to fly and sing praises..There is 
beauty all around on this spring morn. .Silly Mocking Bird said Whip-Poor-Will 
and for a second he had me totally confused was I getting up or going to 

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

The Music of Annisquam.

Here I rest upon the smooth rivers bank 
Resting under the protection of white birch
Tasting the scent of spring on old Cape Ann
As if being reborn in the late April sunshine

Here thoughts and memoirs drift on the current
Washing away on coppery green wave crests
Watched by Snapdragon eyes gently drifting
Wafting in the sweetness of a juniper breeze

A brushed sedate glow of dusk mirroring light
Painting the currents of the Annisquam River
Lying in the peaceful and intrepid stillness
I wonder if I’ve found a moment of perfection

Softly baptized by the tepid evening drizzle
I see the silvery notes fall to break the surface
Playing the sweet libretto of rain and river
A rising crescendo of new life awakening

Here I find peace upon the placid rivers bank
Lost in memory amidst honeysuckle moments
It’s here that my spirit remains eternally young
Ever blossoming in the late April moonlight

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007

Details | Cowboy |

April too lenient

comatose commas thought April too lenient; 
birth was postponed until June, 
provided preference for instant coffee 
or selfless gratification, 
minus the flack fouled narcolepsy, 
however insistent … 

cruelty followed, 
as cardboard mansions collapsed under oath, 
if under cardiac-arrest, 
below if not adjacent to, the end, 
regardless of means… 

Copyright © William Ward | Year Posted 2006

Details | Light Poetry |

Winsome April Day

A pale of spreading green
Fresh from earth’s inner need
Where she keeps her secrets
Talking to all green things
On some winsome April day
Unfurl your new banners
Against the lingering grey
Unhinge the sun, chase the shade
Freshen the sweet air
And let the smiling breezes blow
Soft, supple reaching heavenward
Fingers of green bud, break open
Into canopies cover, hover,                                                                                            Azure shells make spring birds,
and all the leafy creatures that                                                                                    Surround soft supple shades                                                                                        
For the world has turned ‘round again.

Copyright © James Gibbons | Year Posted 2010

Details | I do not know? |

Mora Piya Ghar Aaya - My Beloved Has Returned Home

Mora Piya Ghar Aaya (My Beloved Has Returned Home)


the leaves fell, as you left, a bleak chill wafting across the barren space within my being,
you left, taking your smile and mine,
my smile rests with you still, leaving a void impossible to fill.


pangs of longing consumed me, my only company in the frigid nights,
my tears remain frozen, within,
unable to fall from my broken eyes, as I searched the depths of the cold, harsh skies.


birds returned home, though you did not, and I felt soothing rebirth all around,
memories of you began blazing, their embers stoked,
and at last the tears rolled, like ink on this blank notebook, my whole being pined for you, my very self in anguish silently shook.


alive I felt again, the promise of the coming cooling rain, easing the heat of desire,
yet the furnace slowly raged inside, your absence tearing into me, shattering my nights, my longing for you soaring unfettered across the skies,
dancing on clouds, blissfully free,


heaven itself opened, the deluge an unending dream,
rain falling all around, mingling with my flowing tears,
and then I saw you, you returned, and I embraced you, never wishing to let you go,
and though I may wear the mask of the clown,
if you were to leave again,
my very soul, would quietly slip away, and in the monsoon rains, I would gratefully drown.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

April Rain

~ April Rain ~

Wash over me and cleanse my soul
Let the world see 
The side of me I do not readily show
Let my smile disappear
If only for a little while
Let them see the sensitive side of me
For I am not always strong
I am not always happy
Sometimes I feel sad

April Rain

Wash over me 
Let the world see
Another side of me
Where there is not always laughter
Sometimes there are tears
I am not always about the jokes and fun
Let them see 
The more serious me

April Rain

Please won’t you wash over me? 
Cleanse my soul
Leave it open for others to see
The part they do not always see in me
No more laughter
There does not have to be tears
Let my smile wash away
As we open up my doors for the world to see
The more serious me

April Rain

Please wash over me

By: Jean Bonella

Copyright © Jean Bonella | Year Posted 2009

Details | Epic |

One Day In April

I remember after three weeks of fasting
and praying with heart and soul,
pleading to The Lord that He help me,
that He hasten to me and console.

Then one day in April,
as I stood by a mighty river:
I looked and suddenly there before me,
appeared a vision that caused me to shiver.

The vision was about to speak to me.
I grew pale and weak with fright;
then fell to the ground face downward
unable to bear the sight.

His eyes were like pools of fire,
with feet and arms of polished brass;
and like the sound of a mass of people
His voice roared strong and vast.

He placed his hands upon me.
I was lifted up from the ground;
and as my knees were trembling,
the voice began to resound:

"Oh dear Daniel, beloved of God,
listen to what I have to say:  Do not  fear!
For I have been sent here
to answer your prayer this day."

"Soon a mighty battle will come to pass
evil powers will fight against The Lord;
but God's faithful will hold firm until the end...
then the righteous shall receive their reward at last."

By Milton Lopez Delgado
Adaptation from The Book of 
Daniel Chapter 10
The Living Bible
September 16, 1984

Copyright © Milton Lopez Delgado | Year Posted 2009

Details | Didactic |

Making a Difference April 3 2011

Listen, feel it, as you take it all in,
process it, accept it, then file it all away.
After all that it is then you will make a difference,
follow your heart quided by God,
he will never lead you astray.

After overcoming a terrible tragedy,
and you are strong enough to survive the pain.
Your reward will be the ability to perform wonderful miracles,
leading the lost through the pouring rain.

Such goodness that is coming straight from the heart,
will be your ultimate reward.
Lend support, passion leads to a response,
you are right on your path, just keep moving forward.

If you need a little bit of wisdom and advice,
just ask with a generous voice.
Be strong and courageous never discouraged or afraid,
you will know in your heart how to make the right choice.

Something that may seem small to you,
could be your biggest life changing experience.
You quardian angels will show you the way,
suddenly it will all make sense.

Following God's path he has chosen for you,
the outcome will be magical.  
A new sense of control that you now have,
with your life now complete and full.

God's simple touch of your soul, 
will release those chains seetting you free.
Just close your eyes and relax,
seeing only beauty, peace and serenity.

Finally you have reached your destination,
and the gate keeper joyfully opens the gate.  
Lavish in your blessing, enjoy your rewards,
you are finally free from the darkness you hate.

Copyright © Priscilla Larson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |

A Memory of the First Sunday in April

Day lilies assorted and bright
With flox flowers purple and white
Crisscrossed expanses of soft green lawn
Thus was my first April day born
Palm branches the worshippers brought
Lining staircases and streets
As they ought;
Red Cardinals, Florida grass, hydrangeas, lavender
Scenting the air, aurelia and ferns; violas and shrubs
Daisies yellow and deep purple hues
Flowers abounding through maiden grass white
Doves and holy wells, seekers of light.
Steeples and places,
Seats of gold –
Vestries in ancient wood
Respected of old
Stained glass windows
Altars and naves –
Bright with daffodils
Poppies and haze
From fine water sprinklers
Fronting white towered cathedrals
Or plain wooden benches and Methodist places
Scurrying Baptists, hiding the faces
With cloths and white linens
Of embroidered laces
Peonies pink,
And look there fellow –
Lenten roses in mixes,
White, green and yellow.
Tennis courts and fancy fountains
Ornamental grasses
And pampas white
These colors, and flowers and other signs say:
“It’s the beginning of Holy Week
 Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord
 It’s Him whom we seek.”`

Copyright © Jonathan Sion | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |



I didn't know you very well April.
You were the start of spring,
The beginning of new things.
Offering a time for transition,
expressing a sweet song for broken men,
showing that what had withered away once could grow again.
April, I sit here now and think of you as me.
You are the most certain uncertainty.
Your chill passes as wind thru my cotton tee.
Your chill is me rushing thru those I've treated improperly.   
Your overcast sky is heavy like my regrets.
It has encompassed my every individual action and step.
Drenching my precious days as I stood wet,
your rain fills the wrinkles of this face I cant forget.
But April, I'm moving away from the mirror, far too long consumed,
and stepping outside with you waiting for the flowers to bloom.
April, your sun is dynamic when you show it.
It is very much like mine within me and I know it.
It turns me completely inside out,
Still fierce with fire under that bed of grey doubt.
Still hot as a lover's passion when it parts the storm clouds to shine.
Yes April I am assured that your sun is much like mine.
So April I do, I see. 
In your light is where I need to be.
This is where I need to focus.
Hopeful now for I know that nothing is hopeless.
It is here and now that I raise my head
from the muck and mire of years past dead.
Here and now clawing mud from the pit of my eyes to see.
April my statement is that Im going to be free.
Like your sun sometimes immaculate in the sky,
Im going to live more for me and be free or die.
I accept the responsibility of success, so I'll try.
And will rest my weary thoughts without inquiring into why?
Why?   Why? Why it all came to be as it did.
I don't know but the best I can do is change how I live.
I wont be selling my cherished ideals,
Im no longer poor.
I wont be pawning off my outbursts
for a cheap pop no more.
Because I need more. More baby, more.
And I know where I need to go.
To kick-start my throbbing heart,
I'm digging back to my roots to grow.
So while your leaves stream upward
and tulips glow from their bulbs,
I'll stand outside myself again, 
fully content to be exposed.
April, I can grow with you now, knowing that I know,
I left myself behind a long time ago.  
But that's o.k.,  somehow i'm thinking WOW! 
I've always dwelled somewhere other than here and now. .
I'm here now though, its crazy,
I sense that I may be fine.
For the love I lost has found me again, 
revealing it's almighty face in mine.

Copyright © teddy burke | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |

April Showers

April showers bring sunshine
And glee

Smiles a plenty

Hugs and kisses

April showers bring flowers

That blooms in may

Beautiful flowers are touched

By God

To my our space a beautiful

Copyright © Carolyn Sears | Year Posted 2008

Details | Acrostic |

April My Love

Assured to find a muse
Penmenship must be at its best
Relaxation and motivation is needed
Inspirations will be its bounty
Let the world discover its tale

Tribute To All Poets

Remember April Is 
Poetry Month 
May You All Find That Muse

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme |

Summer Resolve

The first, carefree summer day a somnolent tune doth swagger
An intense heat hovers then releases a permeable dagger 
Sapped of inner resolve, at noon retired to shaded bower, a truant 
At eventide, resuscitated from the cool respite, from my shielded 
lair did stagger

The next, searing day shorn of shirt and shoes but with my dignity 
I alight from my screened porch assured that my taut skin would 
the beaming waves refract
A soothing, afternoon breeze ripples; my chest hairs retract
Traipsing along, unencumbered by the elements, I skip through the 
manicured tract

My bare feet absorbing the ground's subducted heat
Disheveled hair, a fluttering mane swaying to my hip hop beat
The soft grass blades caressing my knobby ankles like a velvety 
A winged armada skirting the shock waves pulsing from my 
reproaching feet

Treading into lush, green garden cloaked with ingratiating beams 
of light
Each, leafy tent bowing paying homage to the sun's infernal might
The pleasant aroma of waxy corn leaves and glossy ferns my 
nostrils delight
The sweet scent of mellow berries and ripening mellons my taste 
buds insight

At dusk, my barefoot odyssey abruptly comes to an end
A grizzled, sizzled wayfarer, to my artificial estate I slowly wend
Blithe journey my spirits exulted, but pain in my tendered parts did 
the sublimity ammend
A cherry red shroud covering a weathered rind looking for soothing 
balms my misery to tend    



Copyright © Stephen Parker | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |


Author Dana Redricks
July20, 2014

I long to help; to reach out, and embrace the helpless, even more, the children. I've been down the path of incomplete, and the feeling of hopelessness. We all need someone to lean on no matter what our age is, and to turn the page, and to release the person trapped in a cage. At some point, we all get lost in amaze.
Some people call it a weakness to be loving, and helpful, but one thing I've always loved and I got it from my mother; in so many ways she taught me how to love. I have never seen it any other way, and she always had a smile, or a joke or two to lighten the load of a few, and just like my mother in material means I am not rich, but I am rich in love and happiness. I love to be content in whatever situation life has brought my way; knowing each day God would make a way.
I learned it is better to give than receive in a society of selfish intents, but each day I am just thankful I can pay my rent when it is due, and yes even help out a few now and then, and maybe even gain a friend. Some days or rainy and clouds hang overhead, and sometimes there are words I've wished I've never said, but the thought of not helping is one word is hardly ever come out my mouth. I am from the south where it is a common thing where people speak as they pass, and not afraid to help a stranger in need; even though we live in a world entangled in weeds.

Copyright © Dana Redricks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Bio |

Happy Happy Birthday Marianne Schroeder

 Happy Happy birthday Marianne Schroeder
To the "LOVELY, Soloist Pianist"
with the most~
let me say ~
Happy Happy Birthday to you ~
i lift up my glass with a~
"LYRICAL toast"
just as "Extraordinarily WONDERFUL"
and "SPONTANEOUSLY Non-obnoxiously SWEET"
as to say to you ~
i hope you have a ~
Happy Happy Birthday~
that only a
"Prestigious Inspiring Pianist"
like you can do ~
Happy Happy Birthday ~
to a "Humble Musical WOMEN"
as " Phenomenal and BEAUTIFUL, as WHEN SHE Playing a Piano"  
Happy Happy Birthday Too you... 
Lady Marianne Schroeder


Copyright © verlecia fields | Year Posted 2017