Narrative Miracle Poems

These Narrative Miracle poems are examples of Narrative poems about Miracle. These are the best examples of Narrative Miracle poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

The poem(s) are below...

Details | Narrative |
Peering at the radiating faces of happy families
So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes
Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the faces of my sons
Without a glimmer of hope even promises of warm meals would be lies

In the brown eyes of my sons, the same eyes their mother, my wife
Sadness the sacrifice, a courageous mother giving life
So great a zest for life she sacrificed to give her sons life
But now greed hath put her seed in peril and my world in strife

No “Help Wanted” signs in the windows of Main Street’s bustling stores
The aroma of fresh bread wafts tauntingly from the bakery
With my hands in pockets, finding not even loose change
Overcome with hunger and jealousy, should I resort to thievery? 

Mind reeling, contemplating abating moral principals
Suddenly appear familiar brown eyes amid face so dear
The image of deceased wife, Spanish born eyes filled with tears
Speaking, "Abe, the Lord is gracious, walk until head is clear"

I follow the light in her warm eyes reflecting in glass windows
They lead me down the road to a park at the end of town
Dressed in ragged clothing, a man sits with a smile of peace
Breathing white puffs in frigid air, this gentle soul sees my frown

The message is plain, as my fears begin to clear
There is a greater depth in a soul of love well kept
The night is far spent; I kissed the hand of this gentle man
He smiled sweetly and said, "Lift up heavy head from dread"
I look up to see sun glistening on snow-laden pine boughs
It’s here, Christmas Day, and I’ve left my children alone all night
An ache in my heart compels me to race quickly back through town
Breathlessly, I reach my porch unprepared for a welcome sight
Hearing laughter within, I smell, yams, turkey and ham
I open my door, on the floor, presents piled high as well
Laughing with glee, sons kiss me, sparkle of brown eyes I see
Sparkling brown eyes, of Spanish descent, love is evident
“From where in the world did all this come,” I ask my sons
“Beautiful lady with Spanish brown eyes, stopped at our door
She said a strange thing, as on the floor our gifts were lain,
‘Tell Abe keep the faith; a mother's love is stronger than the grave.’
Her hugs and kisses, will be greatly missed!  Who was she, Daddy?"

Thank you, Moses, for joining me and guiding me in this write.  Merry Christmas, dear 

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009

Details | Narrative |
They needed help
Walking alone in the dark.
The man.
The child.
A broken down car.
The child frightened,
But not understanding
The terror
That would soon
Come her way.
Her parents petrified
That their baby was gone,
Over forbidden images
That crowded their way
Past ice cream sundays
And birthday parties
And wedding days.
A passer-by.
A doer of good deeds.
He stops.
He sees.
He looks into
the little girl's eyes.
The girl speaks,
"This is not my dad"
And the coward
who took her,
He runs.
He hides.
The passer-by,
Believing he saved
A child
From a long, cold walk,
In reality
Saved a child
From a long, cold death.

Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Prayer Cried Out In The Storming Waves

Fought the waves, the maddened tumbling sea
doomed ship sinking swiftly beneath me
Prayers to God,to every saint I ever knew
no desire to reside beneath this ocean blue

Midnight's stormy fury soon moved past
ship gone, me clinging to a broken mast
Fear, the kind that eats into your soul
rebuked my every hopeful, impossible goal

Prayers renewed with sad desperate pleas
Lord, let me survive these angry seas
The waves beat me about with great delight
I am tired, give me strength to fight
Master,find all the good that rests in me
save me, to do all that you may please

Prayer ended, my legs and arms do so tire
as the last ember was burning in my fire
Hope raced forth in a bright shining light
dawn broke forth from that darkest night

The rays hit me with a soft, sweet breeze
so calm,so very calm my soul was at ease
A single gull flew over my bobbing head
Hope cried out,you live,you are not dead

Land must now be very close hereabouts
So tired but that did not stop my shouts
Thank you Lord,this gift I will never forget
I believe,even though I am not home yet

A rescue ship's horn was soon blasting away
saved I'd be on this fine glorious day
Soon I was safe, safe on board her deck
I knew then faith and prayer saved my neck

Captain said, saw your flare just before dawn
thats when we raced and really poured it on
I was so confused and my mind it did so stun
I had no lifesaving flares and no flare gun!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-24-2015

Note:  Was it a dream, my memory tells me I lived it.
In another life so long ago.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
A little girl lost her home this year, for her, Christmas wouldn't be there.
Her family was angry from all the troubles, they simply couldn't repair.
Don’t bother us about presents her parents said, they were depressed by their fate.
With bitterness they said, you’d be lucky to have dinner tonight, or even a plate.
Life was harsh, nowhere to go, anger and fear had put their souls, in a terrible place.
The little girl had found no hope or joy, lurking near their old car, of late.
The car was their home, gas money was scarce, and with few places they could park.
Yes, their troubles had slowly extinguished, that precious hopeful spark.
Without that spark, they’d never find their way, from this terrible place of cold and dark.
And life’s darkness grew deeper nightly, as hope vanished under a reality so stark.
Even the very fiber of her family, seemed to be shattering slowly, slowly, apart.
The child felt alone here in this dark car, as sadness tried to engulf her little girls heart.
The future seemed filled with hopelessness, as shame and dread, were leaving their mark.
Embarrassment to be seen and turned away, made it hard for them to reach out, to restart.
But life goes on, and we can’t fear to rebuild, or the future will be hard to impart.
The girl suddenly declared there’s more to life, and she wouldn't let it conquer her heart.
She decided triumphs will come, and all will get better, if she held to that hopeful spark.
Seeing the desolation and anger here, she couldn't stay around, she had to get away…
So she climbed out of the car, and she walked into town, not so very far to stray.
She went and looked at the store windows, where Christmas was being displayed.
The music and people filled her heart, lifting her spirits, deep inside, that day.
She noticed a store, way down at the end of the row, on the next block, where it lay.
No one was there, it seemed lonely, and the darkness was again, spreading it’s decay.
She ran there in time to see an old man closing up, with sadness on his face betrayed.
What use were his goods, if no one would shop, or come down along his way?
The super store down the block, was daily making him lose more and more in the fray.
He could no longer afford to hire people, and the season had very little time, to stay.
As they talked the girl saw that she couldn't let the darkness take another, so she prayed.
Then she told the old man, if he’d open the shop, she’d bring customers down his way.
She added, she’d find reasonable workers, if her family could live upstairs, she portrayed.
First bring the customers, he said, and the rest will be yours little friend, he conveyed.
She had him put his best toys, as a contest prize, and to add lots of lights on the display.
He set a contest, “Winners-the best collectors for families in need” on Christmas Eve.
He put out a bright contest sign, but still nobody came to his end of the block, to survey.
So she had him call the Salvation Army, for a kettle, Bell ringer, and Carolers, who came 
Lickety split, their way.
Then she had him call a dear old friend, and farmer, to bring a tractor full of bails of hay.
Another volunteered his horse and sleigh, both, to see the city lights thru New Years Day.
This was a great idea, since the older drivers, could use the help, for their bills to pay.
The girl ran all over spreading the excitement, and to come see the prizes, his way.
The families suddenly started heading toward his door, and to those wondrous rides.
At that moment her parents came, and she explained what her hope, had improvised.
Her father talked a contractor into building a disabled family a home, to help advertise.
He could get a tax break; come to this store for supplies, and hire unemployed workers, he devised, so wise.
In the end, each night grew brighter, because of a girls hope, and heart-warming delight.
And the old man began smiling for the first time, in a long, long, time, starting that night.
All was saved, a home was found, and another built, as a sad little girl taught grownups to smile along the way… 
You might say, A Spark of Hope lit a candle, then a raging fire, which was burning bright by Christmas day.

The moral to my story is:
Never give up on Hope; it’s your best friend, as life brings its troubles your way…
Know that with time, a good heart, good will, and friendly ways… 
You can find God’s gifts again, if you don’t let the dark take you away…

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Maud, the meek poverty stricken seventy year old matriarch of the people spoke proudly as the relief shown on her face. “Two weeks ago I had tests run at Sparks Medical Center in Fort Smith they told me that my old body was almost totally eat up of cancer. I ask a brother at that time here in the church whom I respect and have faith in to pray. He simply said as he laid hands on me, them that believe shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover. (Mark 16:18 KJV) Why that is all he said as he asks me to agree with him.” “I stand before you today, one day before Christmas, totally free of cancer. I was scheduled yesterday to begin receiving radiation, but when they did my blood tests again they could not find one trace of cancer. My doctor said he just could not explain the miracle that had apparently taken place. You apparently know a doctor who is far greater than I am.” Tears of gratitude flowed down Maud’s old, weathered cheeks as the whole church stood and rejoiced with their precious matriarch mother. This was a Christmas eve of rejoicing like non other, and there was not a dry eye in the whole church. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A true story from 1987 in Moreland Arkansas Free Full Gospel Church. This charitable hearted lady lived several years after this and died of simple old age at around 90 years of age. For Carolyn’s Contest: Your Christmas Miracle

Copyright © john freeman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative |
Dragonfly-the miracle insect

Oh… Dragonfly, the miracle insect
You are the symbol of change and self realization 
Source of mental and emotional maturity, 
Your scurrying flight across water 
represents an act of going beyond the surface
glance at deeper implications and aspects of life. 
Your agile flight and its ability to move in all six directions
Exclude a sense of power and poise
this can be seen only with age and maturity.
Your speed at amazing 45 miles an hour
Hover like a helicopter and fly backward like a hummingbird,
Fly straight up, down and on either side
Your wing strokes elegance and grace just like a veteran ballet dancer
You are wonderful and exhibits Iridescence both on your wings as well as body
It is kaleidoscopic 

Your eyes are wonderful  
most amazing and awe inspiring sights
You can see in all 360 degrees around 
That symbolizes the uninhibited vision of the mind
And ability to see beyond the limitations of the human self

You are innocent and harmless, not bite 
To Japanese you are a symbol of summer and autumn
And admired and respected all
Samurai use you as a symbol of power and best of all victory
For Chinese you are a symbol of prosperity, harmony and as a good luck charm 
To Native Americans you are a sign of happiness, speed and purity
because you eats from the wind itself
Those may be the hidden facts that you have inhabited our planet for almost 300
Million years!  

Jayaratne Weerakkody

Copyright © Jayaratne Weerakkody | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
A snow white deer was downed by a hunter
a once in a lifetime trophy, he boasted.
some folks were crimson pissed 
because a snow white deer is very rare,
a sign of good things to come 
the purist of beings to reappear....
an antlered angel... wearing a message 
a reminder that God is still present, 
still looking after- picking up 
from the edge of our acid cloud, sludge streams
burning forest of Dali dreams.
Waiting for the perfect time...
the perfect time 
to float above the clearing
to cleanse
to whisper "there's still miracles-miracles abound
there's still time to turn negativities into lacy dreams
knead bullets into butterflies
spin the planet back from black to aquamarine"

to the hunter it was just a leaping piece of meat
to be silenced-d- skinned- devoured displayed...
his thrill...
his miracle
now some people want to bow the hunter down
for stuffing their miracle
you know, nail his polyester neck to the forest wall

perhaps the white deer was a test, 
God's barometer,
to see where our souls are really at...

Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
Which way are we 
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 


Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Before I wondered how Jesus
was able to walk on water,
as his disciples watched.
"Only light things float on water!"
my physics teacher told me,
when I told him about Jesus walking
on water.

"Did Jesus walk on water?" I asked a priest.
He was silent for a while. He picked a vase
with a wilted flower, bowed, and prayed.
The flower gradually came to life!
"If you have faith, you can achieve anything!"
he replied.

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
A beggar had been sitting at the side of a road
For over thirty years on a box which was old.
One beautiful day a stranger walked by.
“Spare some change?” – asked the beggar and sighed.
“I have nothing to give you”, - said the stranger to him,-
“What is that you are sitting on?” “Just an old box, I seem.
I’ve been sitting on it for as long as I live”.
“Ever looked what’s inside?” “There is nothing in it”.
“Have a look in to see - there’s something or not”.
So he opened the box and it was filled with gold. 

I was inspired by a parable from Eckhart Tolle’s Book “The Power of Now”.

Copyright © Zhalya Abiyeva | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
The warm light calls me
And all the people who cries for thee
I raise my hand in this abyss
Only to make one wish
To float among the others
With all my sisters and brothers
I call out for forgiveness with passion
I take their pain into myself for this occasion
The moment that I see the sky
I will not look back and cry
My body is laying still
People standing by it with a chill
The air gets dense with sadness
I would not think of it less
Some people look up and down
To see the light hit the ground
Some can vision the uplifting feeling they see
One soul that has been and always be
It is special to notice such aberration 
And that might be how souls are awaken

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Miracles From A Painting

Somewhere in Malaysia, a blessed Catholic family is witnessing some miraculous happenings…
These wondrous happenings are things unexpected and unforetold, with humble beginnings…

For a devout Catholic lady, it all begun with the purchase of a painting of the Devine Mercy…
Somewhere in Sept 2012, after she had learnt to recite  the Chaplet of the Divine Mercy…

She simply had no idea, her innocuous purchase in a church, for a painting of the Devine Mercy…
Would be rewarded with some impossible happenings that she could never have imagined…

2 years later, one particular Tuesday, that venerated picture for worship manifested its first miracle…
A slow trickling of oil was seen seeping out from the right hand of the image, what a miracle!.... 

When a religious painting starts exuding oil continuously and there is no plausible explanation…
The local parish priest and his elders, imagine their muted excitement and the consternation…

In their infinite wisdom, they did their observation and intensified their prayers in unison…
Lo behold! Another miracle, more oil flowed, now from the hands and the feet of that image…

A month later, when happened the next phenomenon,  it was October,  the month  of the Holy Rosary …
A statue of the Holy Mary with her crown of thorns,  it too started to release oil, by all that’s holy! …

And last year, the Divine Mercy painting continue to release oil, even a tinge of reddish liquid…
This oil and blood flow subsided only after 40days when it was the  first Sunday after Easter….

To top it all, in April last year,  even a gift of a bronze statue of the Divine Mercy has its own miracle..
Unbelievedly, this unexplained phenomenon of oil and blood happened,  once more they trickled…

To the believers of miracles and all you faithfuls, who is to know what these manifestations mean…
By her explanation, this owner lady encourages all faithfuls to continue for more prayers as routine..

What is of interest to me, and to share in this news of miracles in some devout Catholic family home…
Have the powers of prayers and faith,  brought forth true miracles into such a  true believer’s home?


Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
I am here today Christmas Eve 2015 to share my miracle and the Christmas Story Miracle of 2015. Last year  near Christmas Eve on the Winter Solstice I attended a service to honor the Return of the Light or the Christ Light/Christ Conspicuousness.

I wrote copy of lyrics of a song about the Return of the light because the minister who was administering the outdoor service would ask if anyone wanted to contribute a word or two during the service.

We gather in the cold in the woods after sunset some of us brought lawn chairs while others set on logs, the night was clear and beautiful. I looked up and watched the night sky in wonder.

But when the call came to  volunteer one's voice during the service I remained silent and did not sing the song which I had crumbled up in my back pocket.

This week of Christmas 2015 I was thinking that I will attend at least two or more Christmas Eve services to do it again and lift up my voice to sing a song that was on my heart.

And that's when I got the sign on Christmas Eve morning 2015, when I  first wake up and I opened my bedroom door to the small hallway leading to the living room I spotted a fold-up piece of yellow writing paper.

It was the same yellow writing paper that I had crumbled up in my pocket last year (that song) and that I have not seen since, where did it come from, how it get here on the floor and how did it come from were the many questions running to my awake/sleepy mind at 5 am.

Some one told me that I walk around in my own home in a fourth state of dimension but I do not believe this. I believe that the angels/my guides/Mother Mary may have sometime to do with  my Christmas miracle.

Most of my inspired messages, thoughts, poems and affirmations come to me in that stage of asleep/awakening.

And what I heard this morning was this:

Fall to call

To know

Born from sin

Born again

To Ascend

From thyself

to thyself

A joyful noise

Psalms 100:

'Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the lands!'

When I am in attendance at Christmas Eve service today I will carry that same yellow crumbled up  piece of paper (that returned to me) with a message that Christmas for me is about the Return of the Christ Light.

Copyright © Mel Brake | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
The priestess had seen it all well; she had seen it coming. 
The Snow Goddess had spoken to her in a dream. 
“How could this be?!” the priestess asked herself. 
The human nature in her could not make sense of what her visions entailed. 
The reality came to life in the night without the moon, but a night full of stars! The malevolent tribe of the wolves had broken the gates, and killed thousands of knights. They sought the blood of the Queen; the priestess herself! Her divine soul was too much for the vile and dark wolf warriors to bear.
The invaders were ten feet tall, with muscles as strong as steel, and teeth as mammoth as elephant tasks! Warriors of the Snow Kingdom were no match for such an army. 
“I leave my Kingdom’s fate to you my Goddess…” the priestess whispered in despair. As the wolf warriors reached the foot of a big mountain, the auroras began to appear. They were of different colors like rainbow! Their visibility invited a tremor that created avalanches, that buried the entire giant army to their deaths. The Queen’s vision had come true!

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
She was a wreck;
alcohol, drugs, and loneliness
were her company.
Men loved her body,
but avoided her soul like a plague.
“You will never be loved,”
she heard. 
Scornful whispers crawled all around her.
One man loved her so dearly,
that he was ready to see and touch
the ugly scars of her life – he was ready
to be scorned as she was.
“You won’t love her for long,”
he heard.
A woman struggling not to drown
into nothingness is all he saw in her eyes…

(This piece was published in Literature Today (Vol. 4)

Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |
God Is Real/Miracles Happen
By Nate Spears

God is real, and miracles happen
Despite of his struggles 
The middle class poet kept on writing his chapters 
Times were tough 
But he didn’t give up
Unpaid rent 
Eviction notes 
His bills were overdue  
No water, no power 
He used GOD as his source; and  
kept on writing his chapters
Then came a knock 
He opened his door, but no one was there 
There was a note left behind, along with a white feather on his mat 
A rent paid receipt 
Plus full payment of his utilities
He closed the door quickly, and went back in the house to his desk
The pages in his book was flipped 
to a ending page he couldn’t miss
A inspirational piece was left behind that he didn’t write
It read this: 

For your time and effort given 
to lead and inspire, this is the final chapter in your book that I so desire.

I restored your power, to give you energy to write.

I gave you water again, for the tears shed on your writes.

I provided funding for your rent, for the priceless messages your poems present. 

Those sheets of paper have inspired many lives in need to vent.

I read the final chapter, and started to cry
I glanced out the window at a river of joy nearby
A rainbow appeared in the sky
Under covering my darkness  
There lies a ray of light 
No matter how deep life pounds
No matter how hard things get 
If you believe you can overcome
Just keep up the fight 
The battle is already won
Just believe.

Copyright © Nate Spears | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
The night air made her feel tired
As she looked out side all the fences were wired
In the distance she hears crowds yelling
As she was to young to know they were rebelling
Father she asked where are we going?
Mother said to keep quiet and keep walking

Mother yelled in the night air
Father gave out a blank stare
They yelled run my princess run as far as you can
As that moment past her little feet pushed off and she ran
She ran to the nearest bushes and crawled into it to hide
She never smelled the air before as if someone just had died

As she lay on the ground under a bush she heard 
A loud yell in the distance almost to absurd
My name is Angelica, I am just a young girl who does not know 
Angelica just wants to live her life with help to grow
Angelica did not know what just happened she notice a figure in the distance
A little person just like her, a strong but gentle presence

Angelica saw the people who were shouting run off toward the voice
She was scared and she knew that she had to make a choice
Angelica fragile state was so confused and lost
She knew it will take burden on her at a cost
But in that moment of quietness a young but strong voice called out
Can you trust me just because? will you come with me with no doubt

My Story Telling  Together In A Strange World

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care 
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in 
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown

If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who 
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Comatose To Life

Somewhere on a small island called Penang, historically known as the Pearl Of The Orient…
There is a heartwarming tale of how tender loving care revived a comatose patient…

The patient is a fully qualified Florence Nightingale about to launch her nursing career ..
Full of hopes and dreams,  excited about achieving her goals in her chosen career…

But the cruelties of real life was fatefully unloaded on her one unlucky day…
A twisted sense of fate saw a motorcycle accident  that cruelly  left her for dead..

But her strong will to survive and fight was something no doctors could have forseen… 
She being in a vegetative state, those experts think they know enough to proclaim…

There’s no hope of full recovery, poor girl, and it is best to pull the plug on her…
Given her extensive injuries, her vegetative state, it’s best not to prolong her misery..

Her ever loving aunt, her only mother she had known, was resolute in her decision…
Come what may, her favorite niece will have her undivided love, care and attention ….

No one knows the depths of agony and the despair this loving aunt quietly suffered…
The loneliness and the infinite patience, only a mother maternal could have done better…

Through 2 long years of unending love and tenderness, against all negative perceptions..
From the expert doctors to the disbelieving relatives, she tirelessly persevered in her actions..

Today her  plucky comatose patient is awakened, though she is far from full recovery…
What matters is she is alive, she has made it through, though there’s need for counselling …

This story is just a beginning for Janice Chuah Chai Ming, it’s  the start of a long recovery  journey..
This poem is just to document the power and the intensity of love and perseverance extraordinary…  

For Chuah Bee Hong, the loving aunt who quit her job to devote full time for Janice’s recovery..
Prayers be with you and your loved ones, good deeds like this deserves only good in life’s glory..

Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
I love the element of surprise which the present offers liberally
I love putting one into uncertainty or making them marvel—
It makes me feel extra special…

For a moment, I will only be a vile monster in their eyes
Then suddenly, they will notice I am not there to destroy them
They might even begin to feel a tug of trust…

Demon or not, it feels good when somebody trusts you
Only a human has the capability of trusting a demon
It is difficult to surprise a demon, as my victim did so easily to me
For humans, every moment of their life can easily become a surprise
What marvels me the most is that gleam in a human’s eye when they are in awe
I simply love it in children in particular…

I have my own world…
It is an interesting world,
Where I harvest human souls and evaluate them accordingly
The souls are not at the least happy there, 
Which is good for me, because I need their pain as a demon
What is fun is that I have made this world in such a way that it can (and will)
Be utterly and gloriously destroyed

This world is special, and one special  human , 
—the very  product of my genius, 
Will be the one who has the privilege of destroying it…
She is a woman, a very modest woman—
Frustratingly modest, and good
I write this account because that future person now lives—
And in a way, she has always lived deep inside of me
How happy and excited I am that she has arrived!
This very moment I possess her and write these very words

Before I avert the light to her, though, 
I want to talk about my first victim:
She is eternally six years old,
A bubbly, cute little blonde girl with messy hair,
With big blue eyes of pure, piercing astonishment
And her name is Clementine
I observed her religiously since the day she was born, 
Soon shunned, abandoned, and put into an orphanage 
Where she was beaten, lied to, abhorred, envied, and spat on 

Clementine was the reason I thought up the world
This little girl was always in her own little dreamland
And it was sad just how everyone put her down for falling into her imagination so much
Her only true friend through her hell was this doll she found,
Whom she wished with all her heart to be real 

This sad, attention-starved little orphan touched my heart greatly
So, as a demon, I formed a world for her…
I began to show myself, and she surprised me with her quick trust
I trapped her in the world with her doll, Lila,
And promised her that someday, Lila would be human and alive…like her
If only she continued to trust me…
This she promised wholeheartedly with much  optimism

As I continued collecting more human souls in this world,
Clementine began to see and realize I had trapped her
And I admitted my deed to her
I trapped her.
But though she has been pained by the fact that I keep her there, 
She still remains hopeful, and this amazes me
I am afraid to tell her I am a demon just yet—
Though I am sure the souls have given her more than one hint—
But the promises I had given to her were going to come to pass…
This I vowed upon my own existence…. 
I have finally found the perfect person to destroy what I have created
And I have searched many years to find the perfect Lila, 
To grant and complete this orphan’s ambitious wish
I have finally found Lila—the very spirit and figure of her most beloved doll
Too many years, all I have seen from Clementine are those sad smiles
That only thinly hide such throbbing pain…
I want to see the light of surprise and happiness in her eyes
Finally I will get to see that.
I’ll be complete knowing she is complete
It sounds like a simple desire for a demon, 
But I have never denied that… I am very odd demon.

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |
Southwestern France
Mother Mary appeared 18 times
Young woman Bernadette Soubirous
Announcing: “I am the Immaculate Conception”
Mother Mary helped Bernadette
Discover a hidden spring of grotto
That Spring was soon to become
Fountain of faith, hope
Healing for millions of pilgrims

Lourdes, truly a place of healing
Church recognizes 66 miraculous cures there
Thousands more have been reported
Lourdes a place they found peace
In coming to understand 
Accept Eternal God’s will for them

To all who are sick in body and spirit
The Lord brings hope
Comfort through Our Lady of Lourdes

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Moonlight glistened like stars on the snowy mountain lane
   Ascending to a mesa above the timberline
Horses from the valley ranch often grazed with free rein
   More than once fillies had climbed up the steep incline

One morning after the mare Midnight had disappeared
   Ranch hands formed a posse and set out to search the hills
The raven-black horse was loved; for her safety they feared
   A winter storm set in; hands faced heavy snow and chills

As night approached, dejected posse members returned
   The ranch owner consoled them and offered his deep thanks
All felt their rescue mission failed, hung their heads concerned
   As snow piled high, blowing, drifting into heavy banks

Three days of frigid weather kept horses inside their stalls
   Passing Midnight’s empty booth made rugged cowboys sad
It was on the fourth day they witnessed an end to snow squalls
   A sight on the mountain trail turned many faces glad

Midnight slowly plodded down the hill, nudging her foal
   A painted pony, black with vivid spots of white
The colt looked like her mother, covered with flakes of snow
   Hoof prints down the mountainside shone in morning light 

Midnight had taken shelter inside a tiny cave
   Just large enough for a determined equine mother
To rest a few days after birthing a stunning babe
   A miracle, ranch hands said, unlike any other

Theme: Horses and Snowflakes
For Constance, a Rambling Poet's "Horses or Snowflakes or Horses and Snowflakes" contest
by Carolyn Devonshire

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

Details | Narrative |
We are on earth to know To love Eternal God To do good according to His will And to go someday in heaven Human being means to come from Eternal God To go back to Eternal God The Truth is Our origins goes back farther than our parents Our parents are Eternal God’s tool For us to be on earth Sometimes we feel our Creator is near Sometimes we feel nothing at all So that we might find the way home Eternal God sent His Eternal Son Who freed us from sin Save us from the Eternal Father’s world destruction Eternal God, wanted to destroy the world Depressed People He created were sinning Eternal Son stopped Him Eternal Father is Yahweh Means “I AM” Eternal Son is Jesus Christ He is the Highest Priest of the Catholic or Roman Catholic Church We call Catholic priest, father Represent Father Christ He is the Highest Priest The Eternal Father is in Him Jesus Christ is Father Christ He is the way The Truth The Life 4092013

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
With the self declared  bomoh king around, smiles are going around...
Vigorously shared are pictures of  his quirky aids and aides gathered round....

One widely circulated pictures the venerated one  holding up a magical  vase ....
Plain looking yet with mystical powers you could never have guessed....

This time the exalted one has deign to offer earlier a press session....
A genuine effort on his part to better inform us all of his good intention..

It is within his will and intention  that Malaysians should  suffer the  haze no more...
Never  fear, he's the bomoh king, he is here for us in order that we suffer no more..

Once he and his aides get into their mystical antics with religious rites next....
Why, expect nothing less than all round crystal clear and blue skies next...

His precious mystical  vase will draw in all that cursed haze and dust...
He will supernaturally clear the skies and heavens of all the haze and  dust...

All that invisibility  problem at the airports will be a thing of the past...
With him around, all ye people shall get to sleep safe and sound that last...

Hip, hip hooray! Hooray to our most exalted learned one rushing to our aid...
Like a superhero in a fantasy novel flying in to give much needed aid...

Malaysians all countryside wide, look up, look ahead and be relieved...
Bomoh king and his aides come to the rescue and all ye people, believe!

A tribute in jest to the local shaman who endeavours to clear the skies of unhealthy and thick haze over Malaysia and her neighbours here in SE Asia. His latest antics brought more fame or rather more infamy to Malaysia....

Copyright © KENG CHUAN SENG | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

As i sat in a nite club..
sipping sodas as i was too stressed
to enjoy my guinness...with michael powa..
a catch phrase used to advertise
my favorite bottle...
then in walked NAZRIEL

Pretty NATZ.. A nick name...
had a companion... weird..
is an understatement...
no words were needed i..
sat immobilized.....
the eagles blended in..

Nazriel playing intoxicated-
me not buying it
natz... playing with dem pole dancers
natz eyes me..
the eagle folds his arm around her..
protecting pretty natz..

The eagles have landed in our city
i have encountered one too many..
and no one seems concerned...
this one has been around for decades..
lets cal him its-rael

No one knows why the eagles landed
talk of missing Isaiah chapters..
talk of the secret of the seven.. thunders
miracles don't amaze any more
for the eagles have landed...
and sweet NAZRIEL is one of them

by lewis nyaga

Copyright © LEWIS NYAGA | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative |

Well, here we are at the start of a brand new day Who knows what exciting new things lie just ahead Will I win the Lotto? Might have had a better chance had I purchased a ticket Will a long lost friend suddenly reappear? Not likely since he passed away a few years back Will I regain my youthful, debonaire, good looks? Did I ever have them? Dreams can be so realistic at times That when we wake, it takes us a bit of time To clear our heads and get back to reality Have you ever tried remembering a dream How frustrating is that You know it was filled with joy, laughter, and good times But can't remember it no matter how hard we try Strange but so very annoying Sure would be great to continue on where we left off The mind... a real enigma! © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
Church is a she Bride of Father Christ Church is Catholic Church is people Catholic related to the whole Greek kat’holon Father Christ called Profess whole faith Preserve all Sacraments To administer To proclaim Good News Sent her to all nations (YOUCAT) 4092013

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative |
Fairy Tales and wild dreams 
where dragons fights with kings
and the queen sits in beauty 
hoping to be kissed by true love
where angels fly on high 
from heaven above like sweet white doves
the water is high and wide 
ready for a flood 
where ships and pirates dance around 
looking for gold
like lost boy's looking for souls
where dreams are made from far away
where tears fall like candy raindrops
where the moonbeam light
shines every night
where true love is sped up
where the queen sings to be free
from darken dreams
each night the angels fly
among the broken wings
where little rats look around for cheese
that tastes so sweet
while the little children drink their milk
why they watching TV 
in their superman pajamas on the couch
while the moon peeps in to keep an eye
while the wind whispers its sweet sounds of goodnight
this is the way fairy tales and dreams are made 
even in our very day .

Poetic Judy Emery 

Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017

Details | Narrative |
not long ago the earth was young
a dark shadow rose and blocked the sun
the people were lost in the chaos and hate
they lost everything to this dying fate
as luck grew low and people grew weak
they cried to the sky "its a miracle we seek"
this was the first time the moon did glow
yet not one soul would know
the moon was the miracle of which they cried
and without the shadow passes as the sun bound
by the moon, cycled the earth around and around

peace remained because day and night
slept peacefuly with dark and light
with their truth, protected us all
but with them soon came the fall
a fight broke out between anger and tears
night tried to stop it, but then came fears
fears and envy bred hatred anew
and chaos again spawned and grew
all was not lost at this time of pain
but hope was rare and almost found it vain
a balance must create a chaos
just as finding causes true loss
so if we could not have perfect peace
then how do we quell hatred the beast
if light and dark were truly the same
why was it chaos who was always to blame

finally the spiris decided to go their own ways
tired of wasting energy on the fighting days
their final solution was what saved us all
keep far from each other or suffer the call
if one met another we would all return
and this world that was protected would cease to turn

so now with fears, hate, envy, chaos, tears, dark, night, day, and night along
if these nine spirits had left one another and where seperated and gone
this is where twilight enters the truth
along with the others and joining them were; friend ship, joy, compasion, teamwork, turth
twilight you see was the one that brought with it the rest
twilight brought together everyone and their best
twilight truly showed them the way
and these are the words twilight spoke that day

as long as i remain, i reside of both
dark and light
of day and night
of chaos and compasion
of envy and teamwork
of truth and tears
of joy and fears
of friendship and hate

so believe in me and have no shame
it is only i that hold the burden of blame
i who am everything of you and yet
i who have nothing to lose or benifit
you must reason among one another
and find it in your selves to trust each other

Copyright © Kevin Elmore | Year Posted 2009

Details | Narrative |
Between the earth n the empty space 
Is the fire ball
fetching forever
One for all ,
Luminous Rays of the holy hour.
Time and distance 
Doesn't matter
Aging without change
Year after year.
Reaching from the heights
To touch us
Through the beautiful ambiance of the floating waters....
Growing old.
Ain't cold
Fire ball
Rich in gold
Fine art of the great creator
Worthy of all...!!!

Copyright © anjanjyoti bhattacharjya | Year Posted 2015