Grave Religious Poems

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Details | Rhyme |
Pal
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 | Rhyme |
Hell-Hound Allows No Souls Out


Deep in the darkest pit,
where anguished screams resound
Evil thoughts feed the it,
fanged , demonlike hell-hound

No mercy for those so lost,
only torture to pay the cost
Gnawing on its victims with relish,
the monster growls so hellish

Desperate pleas never heard,
too late for any praying word
Looking in deeply is insane,
here, mercy calls always in vain

Dark shadows skirt about,
hellhound allows no souls out
Fear forces me to not see,
that fate once was awaiting me

Distant pits rumble much the same
Death final victor in this hellish game

Robert J. Lindley, 2-14-2015

note --  Edited and shortened poem from a very much longer 
write many decades ago.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Acrostic |
Long arms of tender compassion
Oneness of embittered Humanity
Visceral faith was your salvation
Encompassing all vain materialism
Lenitive of the corporal punishment 
Illuminating a hope encrypted in a
Necropolis of suppressed ideas 
Extruding life from deep darkness  
Seeping rain from saturated soil
Sedative of every entombed soul

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016




Details | Dramatic monologue |
She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror

Copyright © Bill Kim | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Read the Bible and the words that are said. Times of trouble and tribulation are ahead! All one has to do is read the book of revelation. To read about this world and this nation! Days of wickedness and evil that abounds.. Shall very soon. Come “crashing to the ground!” For our sin, there’s a price that has been paid! Many have become sin’s servant and slave! Many will not escape God’s judgment and wrath! They’ve chosen the wrong direction and path! Right now... There’s a path and a way to “escape!” Please do it right now! Before it’s too late! The right path to take, is through Christ alone! He must be the lord of your heart and home! Jesus alone, can bring hope to your soul! He’ll never leave you! Is what he wants you to know! Times of trouble and uncertainty are well on their way! Christ can help you to overcome! He can do it TODAY! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
I stare upon December's moon,
and wonder why some leave so soon.
When news hits us like shattered glass...
Can we believe what's come to pass?
When we aren't meant to understand...
Then who are we to judge God's plan?
As he sifts through the sands of time...
Was this really by design?
Will we get from here to there,
and know it when we do?
Will we greet our flesh and blood,
and those we never knew?
Remember those that mean the most,
and hear their voices ring.
Then shut your eyes...and listen close,
and you'll hear an angel sing...
 
 
Copyright © 2007

 

Copyright © Cole Banner | Year Posted 2013

Details | Sonnet |
    CIL MAOLCHEADAIR   (Kilmalkedar)
On such an Irish spring and drizzle morn,
she wandered through the graveyard, looking for
the Celtic dream from which her past was born,
and every sight brought her to wanting more;

she dreamt her roots from carvings on a stone
as if she understood each chip as real,
passed down to only her, and her alone,
from pagan worship she could almost feel;

and she could bundle them within her mind
to share with Pennsylvania kith and kin,
perhaps the magic, if still there to find,
would be an understanding where they've been;

and she will burn her candles every night,
hoping Kilmalkedar will make it right.
       ©  ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
I studied your Word with care, 
and you wrote my name up there.
I knelt before You in love, 
and You lifted me up like a dove. 
I gave this short life that belonged to me, 
and You gave me a perfect eternity.
You rose from your tomb,
So we could forever bloom.

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.  -John 11:25-26

Copyright © Kim Bond | Year Posted 2016

Details | Dramatic Verse |
The signs are here, for all to see,
The thunder clouds, the dying tree.
The shining lights, that draw you near,
Loud heavy music, in your ear.

By word of mouth, or through cyber space,
The hidden pictures, of your face,
The northern lights, are dancing south,
The rumours you hear, by word of mouth.

The sign are falling, from the sky,
Raining stars, on the passers by,
While the battle rages, on underground,
The innocent dying, without a sound.

The cries of heaven, the screams in hell,
That no one hears, down in this well,
The terrible beauty, the open wound,
The innocent babies, in open tombs.
For all to see, for all to hear,
The blind man's painting, the deaf man's ear.

The birds are falling, the fishes drowned,
What once was up, has now become down,
The tender and loving, an empty shell,
The gross and the ugly, now the rallying bell.

The signs are here, for all to see,
Titanic sinking, on a blood red sea.

More poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

It’s because of Jesus, that I’m here today!
I will serve him!  All of my days!

It’s because of his mercy, 
and love so sweet…
That I can lay all of my worries
 at his feet!

It’s because of the times
 he’s helped me…
He did this, because
 he loves me!

It’s because of his firm and guiding hand…
Everything I go through…  
He understands!

It’s because of all this and so much more…
It’s him that I praise, 
worship and adore!

This same Jesus is also here to YOU!
Won’t you receive him? 
 What will you do?


By Jim Pemberton    07/29/13



Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
I believe in life eternal
Free from all my earthly craves
My soul flying free to heaven
When my body is in its  grave

Here on earth the soul is tested
Into the fire the pain to feel
As we lose our life’s companions
And death our brothers it does steal

Yet our souls they must be steadfast
Growing with each blow that lands
Learning why we first must suffer
Before we walk on Heavens sands

Make not gods from lust and money
Worship not the golden chain
Forget what the mirror tells you
Then you’ll have a lot to gain

Be at peace with all around you
Love the stranger as your own
Wake each day to make a difference 
In the world that we call home

Copyright © Robert Andrew Lyle | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
There is no power in death,
great enough to stop youth.
From what must be done,
souls taken one by one.

If God should stand in the way,
clear the path you will go away.
Should I contend with this power,
no choice it is the devils hour.

When the wicked rule in time,
deception reigning of crime.
There will be a stand instead,
where I gather the vengeful dead.

Amongst in Hell that we cower,
our vengeance will grow louder.
Strong enough in legions,
numbers increasing regions.

Then the wicked will fear,
what is about to come near.
No where near closer to home,
inside Hell's nightmarish tomb.

Copyright © Eternal Victor | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
 THE MAUSOLEUM OF ALL

Africa is the burial chamber of many,
Millions of men and women rested in peace,
The deepest hole full of important bones,
The bones of Homo sapiens are in the graves.
 It is the cradle of humankind.

Africa the sepulcher of our ancestors,
“Rolihlahla Nelson Mandela, Emery Patrice
Lumumba, Julius Kambarage Mwalimu Nyerere,
Jomo Kenyatta, Kwame Nkrumah, Samora
Moises Mashel, and Prince Louis Rwagasore.”
Africa! The black coffin for all dies in Africa.

Africa the mausoleum of humanity,
I wish to be buried in Africa only,
The angels are walking free in Africa,
The guardians are guarding the graveyards
Day and night.

Africa! My last resting place, your burial place,
Our burial chamber
The last resting place of many kings:
“Shaka Zulu, Haile Sellasie, pharaohs, Samore
Toure, Mswati II, Tenkamenin, Mansa Musa,
Sundiata Keita, Oba Ewuare, Sonni Ali, Osei
Kofi Tutu, Sumanguru kante, Ngongo lutete,
And Ezana Axum.”

Africa! The mausoleum of many messenger-
Prophets:
“Isaiah Mloyiswa Mdliwamafa Shembe, Simon
Kimbangu, and Jean Mwambi Mulaya Kadima.”
You are our grave, oh Africa.
All will pass there.

By Alfonso II Warally. Chris

Copyright © Alfonso II Warally Chris | Year Posted 2017