Anglican Poems | Examples

O Lord, Abide In Me

As one travels through life believing
having faith in God for all He's worth
troubles come and go with ups and downs
but God remains faithful and keeps you first

Since the day I first believed in Jesus
God has always assured me He will abide
next to me wherever I am Jesus is there
no matter my feelings in Christ I can confide

Despite my battles with my stammer
God's assured me of His love so deep
for He accepts me just as I am
whatever mountains come, Christ will keep

In life and death, the Lord abides
His light shines through the gloom bright
Jesus holds His cross before my eyes
such joy and glory, a beautiful sight

This hymn written by H.F. Lyte is so inspiring
it held me up when I thought I was beat
with the Lord, I always have the majority
O Lord abide in me to keep me on my feet

(This piece is based on the hymn 'Abide With Me' by Henry F. Lyte (1793-1847), a Scottish Anglican hymnist and poet.

Especially the final verse of the hymn.

"Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heav’n’s morning breaks and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.").

vespertine

dusk settles on an Anglican Shrub
vespertine is downy down upon the vertical horizon
spring like frost is unraveling
toward a sunset on its late afternoon decline

at this stage of early-black twilight
a cygar shaped delirium is seeding 
its exotic fragrance sweetly empowering
will linger until the crack of dawn

tenderly grown staked and supported
the poisonous angel scrumpet trumpets
a crepuscule's sundown into darknness
a pitch illumination begging to brighten

bathed in orange moire reflecting
by her petaled drowsiness unfurling
a day dream and a nightmare
time travel in tandem

lying dormant now in a trance
like flesh inside a nutshell
vespertine pulls away from early-bright
she's never this reflective in the sunlight

A Hotel Advertizing For the Best

To our Christian Public:
Anglican or Catholic 
But also to The Interested Muslim
Abdullah or Taslim,
Vacancies have we for A Cleaner,
Whose Sense of Hygiene is keener,
A Customer-Friendly Waiter,
Not wishing to be tipped later,
A Vibrant Security man,
Who would all entrances  man,
A No-Nonsense Bartender
But can be a lot tender,
A Damned Experienced Driver
In Oceanic Traffic, A Diver!
A Flower-Treasuring Gardener
“To The Pencils A Sharpener!”
A Much-Talked-About Cook,
Whose tasty dishes have a nice look
And A Tireless Dishwasher 
Who should sometimes serve as Usher …

The Interested to strictly apply in person,
Preferably as referee An Imam or Parson …

Salary “Very Tempting!”
You wouldn’t need much prompting …

Hitler : Alan Watts' Opinion

I
There was a time, when we sought comprehension
These days, power and media aim for control, commercialization

II
Alan Watts, once a native Anglican, became American Episcopalian
Left the ministry to teach Eastern philosophy, holistic education

III
Alan has left planet Earth (1970s), is beyond thought police, "mistake" -
Said, "One ought to get angry with someone like Hitler. But he's as natural as an earthquake."

Inner Faith

I was baptized into 
The Anglican faith when I was a baby,
Therefore I have always been "saved"
Through how Yeshua (Christ)
Long ago set a magnificent 
Example of how mankind 
Should be; in harmony with both
His divine side and human side,
Through long awaited everchange 
in my thoughts and feelings,
Thanks to the Holy Spirit
(which is in all of us).
I am grateful for what I've learned in life,
So far, I have gained much
 introspection and perception, 
and it is thanks to the Lord of all lords,
The God of all gods
For making me who I am, 
believe I am, think I am, feel I am, 
and who I was always meant to be.
If God once said "I Am That I Am", 
then we all truly are all "God's Children". 
We are all equally imperfect,
But also equal in potential to be like Him.

God's Name

Is God Jewish, keeping kosher
and laying down the Law?
[Though the Israelite name 
was unpronounceable--no vowels,
because what human can truly 
speak the name of God....] 

Is God a Roman Catholic,
with an army of saints behind him?

Or maybe He's a Mennonite,
plainly dressed and plainly spoken?

Could God be a fiery Baptist,
reminding us that hell's torment 
is as real as heaven's joy?

Might He be an Episcopalian, 
soft-spoken, and all so polite?
[Though in England He would
say He's an Anglican, and have
a classy British accent...] 

Perhaps God is a Hindu, 
manifesting in 33 million ways,
or maybe He likes to be called 
Allah in the desert places?

What does it matter what 
God's name is, so long as
you seek Him, and know
you are not God...?

Bells

bells

from edges of my dreams
a morning chorus 
begins softly. 

in the forest meadow
a slow plodding rhythm
sways closer, 
brings
recognition.

cow bell’s, 
their tinny clunk made more  melodious,
all harshness trapped 
among the evergreen branches
on bedewed trees.

Hick’s cows, their udders full,
seek relief from the soft handed girl
who waits at the gate

their music is joined
by the bell from 
the old Anglican church tower
perched on the hill behind the barn,
it shyly peel’s out a message.

both sounds intertwine, ascend 
flow over still somnolent water,
not even the fish are jumping yet,
the heavenly praise loses it self
in the primeval woods.

Sunday bells 
early summer morning 
Inglesby Bay.

In the Name of the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit

IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER, THE SON AND HOLY SPIRIT

Born and baptised in the Greek orthodox faith,  
Often went to church with my dad at the Anglican
Church, kissed the Pope’s ring when he visited
The Convent, all the way from the Vatican,
Held a key in my heart and soul for all three of
These religions, that is how it was meant to be,
Decorative Rosaries, Christmas Carols that I love, 
Hand painted Greek Icons , all destined to be, an 
Integral, all-encompassing and faithful entire me!

The Organ and the Flame - St James Anglican Cathedral, Toronto

The Organ and the Flame - St James Anglican Cathedral, Toronto

The organist, practicing, 
and I are alone; 
unseen by one other. 
The pews tremble. 
The vast volume of air vibrates with each note.
The morning sun illuminates 
the works of mercy in brilliant colours.
Brass and marble plaques adorn the solid stone walls
proclaiming magnificent deeds, selfless sacrifice, pitifully young lives ended.
My heart, 
my consciousness,
my spirit,
(Dare I say my soul?) 
are awakened.
A bank of glowing candles beckons.
As the organ reaches a crescendo
the tiny flames flicker in time
and I am revived.

The Liberal Church Is In Denial

Liberal Christians are in denial, 
About how much they validate, 
The fundamentalist church old, 
Because the same story is told. 

I know that the Queen, royalty, 
Is a liberal, but that’s irrelevant, 
Because history will offer people, 
A legacy of the Christian steeple. 

When fundamentalist’s err and sin,
They go to their Christian friends bin, 
For a validation that’s assumed, 
From society’s morals consumed. 

Christians back in the seventies, 
Were innocent even if felt guilty, 
And they would even site the Queen, 
To describe their reputation lean. 

You can’t do that anymore, thankfully, 
Because kids have iPhones, Samsungs, 
So communication can made directly, 
By the child who may just feel feckly. 

I think the state should intervene, 
And turn the tables on ancient history, 
By dictating to the Anglican world,  
Their faith healing rights burled. 

It’s not difficult to see and realise, 
That fundamentalism goes to far, 
So if we set laws for Anglicans, 
Then we’ll all be better citizens.

Edmund Campion

In his youth he became an Anglican deacon,
but the doubts about Protestantism beset him
and after further study,
he returned to Catholicism.

Young Jesuit priest,
arrested by priest hunters
in Anglican England 
for teaching about the Christ.

He was convicted of high treason
and executed in England,
which had been  Catholic for a 1000 of years,
later religious difficulties arose.

Priest Campion said before his martyrdom:
"In condemning us, the Catholic priests,
 you condemn all your own ancestors, 
all our ancient bishops and kings…”

Granny's Easter Buns

Grandad says that Easter isn’t funny
You won’t find him at parties
Dressed up as the Easter bunny
He’ll not be scoffing chocolate eggs
Or anything like that
He’ll be putting on his Sunday best
And dusting off his hat
For Grandad is an Anglican
Of serious intent
Does bible study when he can
And gave up cake for Lent
He says that Jesus died for me
And I’d best not forget it
But seeing as I’m only three
I’m sorry, I don’t get it
My Granny, now my Granny, mind
She has a different view
She leaves me little eggs to find
In places like my shoe
The smell of Granny’s hot cross buns
Is paradise and bliss
She makes me little special ones
Topped with a tiny kiss
Granny says God loves me
As she makes my Easter bonnet
With a smile as she carefully
Sews flowers and bees upon it
Let Grandad do religious stuff
The crucifixion thing
I’m only really old enough
For Granny, and the Spring

Grandad’s back from church now
Saying ‘Jesus rose for you’
‘Well, bless us all’ my Granny says
‘The buns are risen too’

by Gail

The Truth and Treachery

We are all
with such or other way
have lead, moved himself or drifted out
from eternal Truth.

We are all
lived in Crist
or hidden of him
attracted to him
or betryed him,
escaping from his commandments
for convenient and comforting
existence in lies.
  

We are all
have splatted and grouped
for  dozen  religious and 
hundredths  branches and currents 
growing from  one stalk and foundation.
All specters and retrospects
of human searching and breaktroths 
turnings and returnings 
towards one Truth
with such or other way. 
 
Russian orthodoxies,
Roman Catholics’,
Islam religious,
Anglican churches,
The Protestants confections,
Judaism, 
Buddhizm, Sintoizm, Shamanizm and Tengrians
together with Communizms ideologies

These are all absolutely 
the recollections of Crist,
prognozing  him 
predicting his transcendence,
visioning his laws
vaguely, clearly on not so
or creating heavy deformed image
of one Eternal Truth
who coming to us,
or gone near us
or blocked long ago
with our  own  falsehood, trades and traditions.

Garden of Narcissus

In every direction that the wind blows
The bulbs of the narcissus bulge and bloom
In all of latitude doth the wind grows
Brushing its floral leaves, dost the wind groom

For acres the narcissus flowers loom
Abroad earths garden in a village where
Anglican Nuns approached the natives there

Of black habit, the garment that they wore
Hid everything except their nose and eyes
Now of great faith, the Nuns, in all were four
Gave praise from hour to hour 'til darkened skies

Thus of their faith, a cherished noble prize
Of glory in the power they would mend
The land amongst an atmospheric wind

Slicing into the spring the sun would shed
His light unto earths dark exploited trail
As nature, bathed in beauty, blew and spread
Throughout the village like an handsome male

Faces revealed, the Nuns removed their veil
Seduced by sensuality they saw
And vanity the narcissus would draw


Johnny Sumler
Rhyme Royal

My Life In the Letter "a" Dedicated To My Mary

Auspiciously, Authentic
Artificial, Ateller
Artistic, Author
Astutely, Aware
Astronomically, Astounding
Arrogantly, Aroused
Argumentative, American
****, Authority
Apostolic, Action
Anglo-phonic, Anglican
Ambiguously, Ambidextrous
All around, Affectionate
Absolutely, Adament
Abiding, Ability
Arranging, Alphabetically




   I had to try this for my Mary, How did I do Honey?

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