Age Religious Poems | Age Poems About Religious

These Age Religious poems are examples of Age poems about Religious. These are the best examples of Age Religious poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme |


Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
After the last one was planted, he sniffed it;
Then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.

Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.” 
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.

She smiled through her tears.  
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Dramatic Verse |

The number the brand

When I met her , a very old lady she was , yet inside lay a frightened child .
I felt my heart cry , I felt as if I was touching history itself , as I made this older lady, child,  chai .

I remember the day , and so many tears I have cried
I have cried before she and I met 
As a child , so many tears, left confused inside .

Not understanding Why , and how could we stand by and live our lives as if this never happened ?

It happened , we are left in dismay of the movies seen the accounts taken of History 
My self ..I have caught stereotyping the very people whom did this to she , the rest of her Family erased .

The white candles we light , we try and forgive , or just simply block this pain out completely.

It occurs , over and over , as it has been said History will repeat .
When thinking of my children , when I think of that little girl losing ,  cold and scarred , feeling only defeat .

There is a lesson here and I pray , that all whom have been taken from life , have no pain and are gifted spirits throughout eternity . May they be warmed with love,  and reunited with the ones they lost .

The first time I met her , her old hand I took and warmed it with mine , I held it for a long time . 
You could not,  but notice ..the Evil imprinted on skin , the Evil only to remind.
This very old Soul , in her eyes you could see . 
The child that once lived , so innocently free, not aware yet,  of the Hostility .

I speak of a Little girl, I speak of a old woman , I speak of a Jewish,  chosen Religion.

There as I held her frail , old hand  , a brand , a number stamped in Evil a long time ago .   In 1945  , once in our distant, yet Frightening  past . 

We should never forget , never forget it happened , never forget all the names .
If we do , we have learned nothing , A World living in Shame .
                                " Etta Babooshka Kofman  "

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

A child's plea

Dirty rotten scum to take the life of an innocent one torn away from my childhood but not yet thrown into adulthood you've given me a life of pain certain to only knowing, that never again, will the days be the same but I have found my new freedom here, within these mighty walls known as Gods kingdom

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Is It God We Trust Or Leave In the Dust

Is It God We Trust? Or Leave In the Dust? As our courts remove God from this great nation. We are left with a confused and lost generation! As God is taken away from our public schools. A huge tide of immorality is what “rules.” The Bible is often mocked and discarded. It was on it’s principles this country was started! Just about anything of God seems to get scorned. So many “rush” to worship many ungodly forms. As God’s name is often tossed and thrown out. We tend to forget what HE is all about! Too often, his plans for living are tossed and abused. No wonder, there’s many who are lost and confused! As people forget God and worship the fallen creature. They look to themselves and “glorify” their features. Many ignore God, and get involved in deep addictions. And with this, come disease, heartache and afflictions! As God looks and sees this nation “bleeding.” It’s his righteousness, that we need to be seeking! If we would humble ourselves, he would hear our prayer! He loves all of us! And he really does care! Won’t you come to HIM, And invite him in? Won’t you allow him to be your master and friend? He brings strength and nourishment to the soul! It’s only in him that we can be made whole! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |

Brake Change

Rotors spinning 
Gods kingdom 
Deceptive revelation 
Lies built - unto the throne 
Living without guilt 
Dying all alone. 
Callaper grinds 
Whatever she finds 
Like god throwing stones 
Brakes are broke 
No chance to show 
Vehicle now disabled 
Watching us go. 


February 22nd, 2008 


this is dedicated to my sharp bud Christopher T. we hung out all day and tried to change the brakes on his van. Inspiration hit me with 3 short poems I'm posting. It was a good day and I had a lot more fun then anyone else.  Including you ::points out of screen:: what did you do that day? Didn't hang with us, well, 
that's too bad. 
sorry, charlie!

Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |


On Roman ruled British isles,
   On a sunny morn
Forth century on the day of Ides  
   Our Patrick was born
To the deacon and his wife fair; 
   A beautiful morn
And priest grandfather who care’
   Their Patrick was born

He, young and bright as a button 
   This could be clearly seen
Was Patrick the lad and glutton
   Tall for his age at sixteen 
 Taken as a slave to nearby Eire 
   At tender age sixteen
by knavish raiders – this not fair
    Long time not to be seen

God visited Patrick in a dream 
    On this Emerald Isle
 When revealed to him to stream
   Patrick broke rank and file
He boarded a ship and set sail 
    left this unwelcome isle
In Britain to tell all the tale
   Then Gaul - priesthood and file

In 432, back to Eire to convert them 
   A land green with shamrock
From their polytheism to stem
   Worshiping even a rock
To explain the Holy Trinity 
   He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
   They accepted *The Rock

To explain the Holy Trinity 
   He used the shamrock
Enlightened them till affinity
   They accepted The Rock
They are wearing the Green
They are wearing the Green...

*Rock of Ages

21 January 2013


Copyright © Suzette Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Android Embedded Chrystal Blue

          Android Embedded Chrystal Blue

In the corner of the galaxy dead in front of night
Just left of the quasars charted long ago
A logic being called 732 thought out and calculated
Waited for the proper landing on the proper planet site
A cold green world with three moons came into view
A giant star off to the right was ready to go nova
He had to set up for the show
The probe shuttled down with perfect coordination
To the surface of the barren world
Instruments and Android 732 were on board the tiny craft
The robot is the next generation of thinking machines
Artificial intelligence of the highest level
Equipped with weapons, scientific tools, and knowledge
Liquid computers housed within its metallic head
Designed to analyze and measure everything there is 
The Android is authorized to do anything it pleases
Given freedom and vast latitude to explore
Religious leaders blessed it and confirmed it
To be free in every meaning of the word
They authorized it to have a soul and save the universe from Satan
To roam and catalogue spiritual and scientific entities
 Down to the micro mystical cosmic core of molecules and atoms
To advance the human and android condition without limit
It explores new planets and space anomalies by choice
Returns data to the home world through a beam of light
Android 732 crashed into the cold green planet while distracted
Focused on a giant star off to the right that just exploded
In a spectacular display of colors of reds, yellows and whites
It became enamored as it entered the green icy planet
Impacted a crystal glacier at the designated site
Became embedded in it
Froze there on the spot, anointed by blue ice
Enshrined for all eternity
An android crystal blue forever
If my calculations are correct as estimated


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

All I Know About Hinduism

All I Know about Hinduism

I adorned myself 
with bangles
which followed my suit 
as they clinked.
Combing my hair 
and placing flowers
they contained the same level of energy 
as I did.
Running around 
thinking I was a princess
reality: the bride was the real deal.
Tripping on the hard stone floor
a gentle hand lifts me up 
puts a sweet 
into my tiny hands.

Five years later 
I take my seat on the tile floor.
Wearing leggings and a kurta like all others
who sit in straight rows.
Reading from the slokas on the poster
making sure we say Om 
three times before starting.
Clasping both hands 
we pray to every special guide in our lives.
Understanding how each one of them has molded us.

Five years later, I sit in front of my laptop.
Wearing sweat pants and a shirt like my sister.
Worshipping daily after taking a shower does not wash away the sins.
Having a plan for the future does not mean I know what it will turn out to be.
All I do know is I have friends up there 
who will listen to me and 
who will help me.
That’s all I know.


Copyright © Anitra Karthic | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Am I Really Happy

Am I Really Happy?

With everything I’ve acquired and got...
What kind of happiness has it brought?

With everything I have or can name...
Has it given me joy or brought me shame?

With all that this world can give me…
What kind of life “lies beneath me?”

With all of my possessions and wealth…
Do I have contentment and “true” wealth?

I want it to be known and wish to express…
I’m not so sure, I’m what you would call “blessed.”

There’s something I know to be certain.
Tomorrow could be life’s “final curtain.”

There’s something that’s been on my mind.
Have I given God just some of “my” time?

There’s one thing I’m going to do… And do it now!
I’m going to come to the Lord and humbly bow.

This is something I need to say and do...
Give it all to God!  And tell him;

Something that I should have done already...
When Christ comes again…  I want to be ready!

God’s joy and happiness is true and very real!
The presence of God..,   I can already feel!

What God has given to me, no one can take away!
For he comforts me and is with me every day!

By Jim Pemberton   

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

An Old Mans Bedtime Prayer

An Old Man’s Bedtime Prayer

Lord: Now I lay me down to rest.
To get away from this days test.
To rest my head on pillows fluff.
To clear my head of all the stuff.

That comes your way as you get old.
It’s part of life that’s seldom told. 
I hope to get some 10 hrs. sleep.
I’ll probly end up counting sheep.

As I look back across my days.
I know I’ve sinned in many ways.
I’m real sorry.     I’ve told you that.
To say again just sounds “old hat”.

But now I plead for this short break.
To get some rest for bodies sake.
If you “Oh LORD” my wish would grant.
And do for me something I can’t.

For I’ve no strength, my life to take.
Just let me die before I wake.
For my old joints have turned to rust.
I’d just as soon they’re back to dust.

Lord: If I’d wake and look about.
I’d “Hoot & Holler” and give a shout.
If I would find that was my fate.
To there be standing, inside “The Gate”

To know at last I’d passed the test.
I don’t need seats among the best.
It’s enough to not be missed.
My name was on His special list.

But you know best, I’m sure of that.
So if I wake, I’ll just hang pat.
I’ll dream of red, rare, steaks so fat
To ponder where the “Good Times” at.

I’ll shuffle through another day.
And burn more bills we strain pay.
To keep us warm in this cold pit.
And by the window now to sit.

As I think back to ‘yester’ years.
With all the joy, few sprinkled tears.
I never dreamed, these “Golden Years”
Would be so filled with pain and fears.

I never thought I’d leave alone.
My wife & I would share our home.
But when I’m gone, alone she’ll bow.
She’ll need get by . . .I don’t know how.

With this I’ll close my nightly plea.
I’d be forever in debt to thee.
If you would oft stop by this way.
To comfort wife here every day.

Written to honor all the elderly that 
Struggle with their health, their obligations, 
their present & their future. 

Copyright © Old buck | Year Posted 2015

Details | Blank verse |

religious matters

Religious cooperative 

When I do- as a liberal should- defend Muslims and 
their religion and the right to worship as they wish
yet I think Islam is holding the people back as it is
too self - obsessed putting the absolute demands    
of this subversion of this eastern religion that is 
a comparatively a new religion with elements of 
Judaism and Christianity, yet Islam is despite what
we have heard and the excesses of the fanatics, who 
contrary to true Islamic thinking, spew hateful lies,
a peaceful religion as we see practised by
 the Palestinians.
Both creeds Christianity and Islam reject the idea of 
free for all sexual norms of Judaism and before we are 
dismissed of anti- Semitism I still think we are right

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

Heartache On 4th Street

  How can I live my life
  Always standing in front of a knife
  So I'll get on the night train
  And I'll go to Spain
  I'll leave this kingdom, this life, and this shame
  So there won't be any more pain
  And so there won't be any one to blame.

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

To Kill The Choctaw Cow

           To Kill The Choctaw Cow

The Choctaw Nation Oklahoma, with proud and noble people
Hunting is our nature and our way
Pretty Tail was a family member, a friendly cow
She gave us milk for many moons
This is the story of her kill 
My father Bully Ten Foot is our chief 
Old and ill from living beyond himself
Hills and tent on prairie land, filled our purpose
No game to feed us so our cows sustained us
Food was scarce through winters blasting bite
Pretty Tail stayed just outside my tee pee every night 
Years of her soft moo would sooth me off to sleep
Starvation steeped in desperation came on hard 
Crops failed, grazing ended without rain
Pain became the Choctaw, as one and the same
An Indian man must always be a brave
Must know his reason within nature and the nation
Bully Ten Foot honored me, with the sacred task
My hunting knife and I took Pretty Tail down below the neck
I slit her deep within her throat
She bled on me her blood, a river of sorrow
For hours I let her do so with her last drops of red
And held her tight as my best friend
Made sure my tears spilled over into her blank eyes
And cried for her, in her place
Never again will I wear hide or eat a steak 
But I ate her brains for power
Rode at great speed on angry stallions back
Black, with strong memories in mind
And opened up inside the plains releasing spirits
To send her off
From Choctaw Nation 

9/24/14 Divine Intervention - Poetry Contest


Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |

What We Missed the Most

What We Missed the Most

His misery had become a mystery to me
Maybe in his family had been a history
So what has happened in his old senility
Could it ever possibly become a liability.

In youth where he went was always diligent
In poems, understood clearly what he meant;
By God, he was incredibly, certainly sent;
From His sins everyday, He did repent.

God did help recover from his downfall
He rose up and vividly stands so tall
Love for all caused him to hear God's call
Even though on occasion has a lot of gall.

When he died what we missed the most
Was of good cheer when he gave a toast,
And with us, when we went out to dine
He said God is great and mine all mine.

To many was a great poet as well as guy
Until drastic, destined day that he did die
And was looking at God straight in the eye
All my poems recently read whole supply.

My fine friend Terry, I surely must admit
Think promising poem above has to be it.

James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran

Copyright © James Horn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

Can't Get Away From Here

All of my dreams have been crushed
and all my wishes.
Because of kisses 
in the past.
but, how many lives have I touched
none, that is why I run
from life.
There is no one left for me 
in this hive.
I'm too scared to ride
and too scared to drive
on this lonesome highway.

Every night I pray
for a brighter day
but, I can't get away
from here.
So much pain
and so many tears.
That's what drives me insane.

Copyright © Blake Holland | Year Posted 2016

Details | Didactic |

A Scientifically Religious Experience

            A Scientifically Religious Experience

While I sit in church my mind begins to wonder
It passes by the alter through the walls
Then reaches at great speed to cosmic places
Not yet charted on the map of time
Accelerated ten times faster than a light
My thoughts go out there where they belong
I cannot afford to buy or operate a space craft at this time 
My mind will have to do
Three layers cover the oval silver ship
The outer one deflects particles and radiation
It breaks down, collapses, after penetrating
The first five universes along the way
The second shield consists of electron and antimatter elements
To neutralize the effects of mounting speeds as I proceed
Through stars, quasars, and colors multi-matter 
The last layer of protection on my simple ship
Is made of elemental particles that holds it all together
Keeps us from shrinking into the void
Into the past to find real history
As speeds just keep increasing
It is no mystery
I have to get back to my original position
Finding it might be a task
Will I still be there in church when I return
Or will it be the past?

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

A Prayer

I know that I am getting old,
sometimes my speech is very bold.
I do not have a fear, as in youth
of what others will say, this is the truth!

I often speak too quickly-
as if I have lost my mind.
Oh Lord, please help me
to remember, to be kind.

Help me to remember 
to think before I speak.
Then your forgiveness,
I won’t so often have to seek.

Copyright © Betty Butler | Year Posted 2016

Details | Blank verse |



don’t understand me
no numeral of quantity
preacher lady looking
at accusations in a book
saying infinity is proof
of a mathematical sacrifice
that saved humanity
if only we could get back
to three and then zero
says quantum physics
is why we have clocks
and space shuttles
slipping through cracks
in the fabrics of blankets
claims blankets are white
masses, says I’m mass
the tree is mass, birds
are mass and a mass
is a spot that breaks
into a speck so small
my car is invisible to god
claims i don’t pray right
because i do it with my
hands and my speech
is imperfect, can’t talk
to god with a slur or slang
says i need to be prized
and perfect like a precious
moment figurine, demands
i stop calling him home boy
he’s not your boy, throws
a piece paper at me with
nothing on it but a squiggle
in the middle of a circle,
claims it represent life
and who i used to be
when i had a brain
and understood counting
was invented for more
than money, need to crunch
the numbers to understand
my sister is the same as me
though she died in a hospital,
tells me i’m better than nobody
but I act like a stranger hiding
my divinity code under a hat

Copyright © Lyon Brave | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |


Lingering bits of joy
Outlasting grey episodes of sadness
Always prevailing in fading shadows

Laughter's light always shinning

Hope sustaining faith
Love deposing evil
Age the friend of reason

It is but to assume the role

The journey is the play

Encores await

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose |


let me be clear. i need no compassion in this life. i've seen myself as a villain ever since i could understand death. exposed at a young age, i dove head first in the pools of mercy. when julius slipped and cracked his skull, his mother's cries rang through me. all of the blood and broken pieces made me question, "did i do this?" i was so young, the only way i could comprehend something so raw was by taking the blame. the angel of death. i stood by as my own mother ran to him and i smirked, and i knew, it was that instant, i was no good. rotten to the core. don't misunderstand. my soul is good. there is something inside that is fighting so wickedly to be released. when julius died, something clicked inside of me. i wasn't afraid of death. it didn't catch me off guard. i never asked the questions to prove i had heart. i processed everything internally and i still do. i told myself that even if this were my doing, julius would have died anyway from heart attack, car crash, cancer... the world is a trap in which living is a death wish. i understood, but never found myself overwhelmed by the blood. it wasn't for weeks after the accident that the images started. i'd see him in my closet each night with fresh blood trickling from his brows. he rarely said anything, but when he did speak, he asked me, "why didn't you save me?". but for the most part, he was silent. he stood and stared and i wanted to walk to him and tell him i was sorry. i knew if i got out of bed he would vanish. i didn't believe he was real, but each night i'd wait for him. the guilt behind my eyes was unearthly. it all comes in flashes. the screaming, the blood on my mother's shoe, the fall. like a nightmare experienced years ago that can't be forgotten. i see his face everywhere, reminding me that death is not reasonable. death doesn't care for age. i've seen the best, crumble into the reaper's arms. it seems only the good attract the tragedy of living. only the good are mourned indefinitely, with fresh roses each november on a grave to remember how much love they left behind. the good are saturated with the tears and the sorrow of everything they touched. maybe it's why i wanted to be bad. to have no one cry over a soulless body. if no one missed me, no one would ever feel the pain of losing me. after julius, i knew there was no silver lining in death.

Copyright © Evelyn Rose | Year Posted 2016