Best Blessed Event Poems
Inviting vibrancy as the season changed
Smiley faces bloomed, reopening dreams.
Seeing you there marked a blessed event
Akin to magical when first time eyes met.
Breezing trees heard the whispers of leaves
Flirting with patterns of shadowy sketches,
There you unfolded what love could mean
Planting bold dreams in affectionate kisses
Floating on air in the lilting summer winds.
Blazing colors inspired falling ocher scenery
Dazzling in hues of resplendent paintings
As we wrote music in autumn's reverie:
A seductive beginning of romantic ending
Composed in themes of passionate lyrics.
Mountain tops donned snow-white crowns
Satiating fantasies in pristine landscapes,
Culminating desires into sensual escapes
As the last goodbye lent your heart to me
Ending your visit and our idyllic love story.
Your beat I hear still, but it lost its melody.
Birth
Welcome - Miracle
Blessed event - Renewal - Creation
New born- Baby - Life Begins - Complete
Happy origin - Citizenship - Family - Generations
Blood ties - Stimulation - Beautiful - Proximity - Encourage - Exciting
Warmly - Motivate - Accept - Every day - Responsibility - Respect - Challenges
Emotions - Fear - Joy - Freedom - Development - Energy
Grateful - Dreams - Hope - Fellowship - Friends
Young - Elder - Old - Loneliness
Pain - Life ebbs - Crying
Tears - Sad - Longing
Angels - Heaven
Death
(From Birth To Death)
13.03.2014
A-L Andresen :)
Contest Name: Life is what you make it!
Sponsor:Dave Wood
Deadline 4/6/2014
(4th in the contest)
April the giraffe’s live feed is all the rage,
Every day we hope to see the birth engaged.
Where oh where can the new baby be?
Is this a fake pregnancy that we see?
A new baby giraffe is what we all want,
But April is in no hurry and nonchalant.
Maybe the blessed event will be this week.
The world is all dying for that first peek.
Written 3/31/17
April 26, 2018 Thursday 9:10 am A COMING APART OR A COMING TOGETHER
WHEN WILL I HAVE YOU?
I ask
oh, anything to get you to focus on us
Think about
Talk about us
but, the bait isn’t taken
You must forget how much this love seeks
to validate
to commeserate
to be
When will you be all mine? I whimpered, I wondered, I asked, I begged
Oh Love you stupid creature of myth
Why did you come to my doorstep in such a hideous way?
Full of lack
Full of insinuation
Full of stark days full of unrequited everything
The touch of you, the long drawn out harm derived
if it isn’t going to last
like forever promised
Full of holes is this love
nasty implications
this whores nest
a flipped over contamination of heart
two that want but won’t be
won’t be what’s wanted
you sit in holy non matrimonious bliss
as I wait in sanctimonious kiss
what kind of love is this
this blessed event soured in tentured history
you and your best flaunted
by me in daily horror
while I guess
is it fool or not
to keep you
when you show up
even daily is the promise
and you do
still I suffer the wages
paid to keep us apart
it wasn’t my idea
to have it like this
i put up with it
because like I said before
love is stupid
shot full of holes
blinding
binding
habitual
pissy
I’d like a hiatus
from this
though I’d miss
the interaction
in my mind
an intelligence dwells
the heart doesn’t partake though
it too, idiots up
at this rate
even if it comes
I may not take it
May forget the whole escapade
go my own way
without
without hoping it will turn out
I may let doubt override
I loved being a whole, one together
With you, I’m neither
barely a quarter, if that
so how come we’re still haggling over the details
why still together
got me
that’s all I know
is you still do
have me
When will I have you?
Tis the season…
To be jolly!
To deck the halls,
And dress with holly!
Tis the season…
For ringing bells!
For hot chocolate:
And gingerbread smells!
Tis the season…
For laughing children!
Singing carols,
Just stop and listen!
Tis the season…
To share a gift!
With great hopes:
For it, they wished!
Tis the season….
That brings us hope!
Yet it is sad,
Many can’t cope!
Tis the season…
Of much despair!
Poverty, loneliness:
Takes them there!
Tis the season….
To open our eyes!
See the hurt:
Hear their cries!
Tis the season…
To change a life!
Offer help:
Not shame and strife!
Tis the season…
To seek out God!
See why he came,
And then be awed!
Tis the season..
Of a blessed event!
The greatest present:
From God was sent!
Tis the Season…
To know JESUS’ love!
To receive his grace,
Then share a hug!!!
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL MY Poetry soup family and !!
May the glory of Jesus be upon you this season!!
Stacey Brown 12-23-13
I am at total peace
sitting upon the cool sparkling snow white sandy beach
feeling the chill of the still early morning air begin to warm
waves lapping, slapping, caressing the sea shore forever more
as though the sea was talking only to me
dolphins splashing, dancing
watching and waiting for the golden sun to rise an shine
at the edge of the dark blue green sea
turning the midnight sky into the miracle of a brand new day
what a blessed event it is for me
please understand that I am blind but yet I see
because I feel Gods grace upon my face
each and every morn
and if you find me here alone
know that I am not lonely
A day without crisis
without trauma
without upset
without panic
A day without confusion
depression
omission
A day without sadness
catastrophe,
mistaken identity....
an ordinary day is a blessed event
Our life is a real drama
In such a colorful gamma.
Our life is just a moment,
Sometimes with a torment.
Just have enough patience
To keep good relations,
To love truly and forgive.
You won’t believe
But today I cried away.
Someone thought it was a shame,
Someone comforted, didn’t blame,
Someone said: life goes on,
Someone dies and some are born.
You only need desperately to repent,
With your heart to be in consent.
Make it a blessed event!
But it was not a simple lament.
Yes, the tears I couldn’t prevent.
The most intimate understood
Whom today we buried,
Whom today we have lost
And what is the life’s cost.
A month ago she was ninety five
But her eyes were always alive.
She was intellectual and clever,
No one could ever say she was old.
So many people her heart could hold.
Yes, she was only ninety five,
But even those who were twenty five
Came to her for advice.
Just to chat with her was so nice.
We did not dare to say “a crone”,
No one heard her moan.
We say: she had a long life road.
But is it enough to solve its code?
The war, the loss of her son…
Years and years were far from fun.
Thank God a daughter was bestowed.
Since then her life has mellowed.
But then a new grief – widowed.
At the funeral many words were said
Because she was truly loved
And in our souls she will never be dead.
It hurts to lose a true friend.
We’ll miss you dear on this land.
So, live in our memories and in the heavens,
Always young in the mind and in appearance!
Larisa Rzhepishevska
throws down his coat in the
puddle, always wraps his arm
around,
squeezes her in public, goes to
church on sunday, shows her off to
his mom, takes her to his favorite bar,
lets her wear his sports jerseys,
considers himself “the provider,”
considers himself “the head of the house,”
considers himself
at the peak of his masculinity---
has a big gun in the crib, has a big truck in
the driveway,
tucks in his shirt at all times
except on weekends,
wears shorts & has a perpetual beer in
hand on saturday---
reads the bible like he never read it before,
or the torah, or the koran,
but never wavers from the three so as to
not seem
too
far
off---
plans a wedding in the Spring,
accumulating the bank for a rug rat in the
Fall,
move in with her,
move with her from the apt. to a house,
move from rent to a mortgage,
got a lil’ green lawn that he cuts when in
his shorts/beer on Saturday,
flirts with the MILF across the street,
gets a dog & talks to him more than
“his woman”---
uses the word “*****”
more frequently, as the wedding grows near,
then abstaining for a clear month just before that
“blessed event”---
puts up a white picket fence round his lil’ lawn
when they get back from the honeymoon &
after she finds out she’s pregnant,
he sits down to write out what his son will become,
because that is what works with the plan,
he’s got to have a son,
because there are things that he didn’t take the time
to do,
which his son will do &
there are things that he had a short ambition for & then wrote off,
which his son will run the long run on &
accomplish &
if she has a daughter,
well, then, she will have
another & if she won’t, if she can’t,
he’ll “convince her” or he’ll
trade her in &
as his thinking begins to grow darker,
as he begins to spin his webs
behind the television that’s always on &
the white picket fence,
he’s just perfectly ready to become a father,
to condemn someone who
never had a chance.
In the vines by the rear door
She built her nest
Sat on her little blue green eggs
With all her mother care
Warmed by her maternal heat
Garage doors opened with a clatter
Snowbirds unloading winter stuff
Frightened, she left the eggs unattended
She gradually tolerated humans
Walking barely three feet away
Her head, beak, peeking out
Keeping a watchful eye
Then the blessed event
Four little squirrelly feather bundles
I even helped supply worms
Although she never acknowledged
This act of inter specie kindness
Gentle nudge to the nest
The babies instinctively stretched
Their scruffy scrawny necks
Upwards to be the first to lunch
Gawky youngsters
All yellow mouths and bills
Stretched wide for supper
Then they were gone!
I'm left with an empty nest syndrome.
How beautiful and infinite is His Universe,
small gleaming stars in a restless, frantic dance;
while moonlight softly shimmers with a silver glow!
Good angels do not hide, they are always present;
hear their fluttering wings announce a blessed event;
why fear darkness and silence, if they are close by?
Be their friend and ask them to come along,
they will certainly listen and join you in song;
God will smile seeing such a harmonic union!
On deserted paths illuminated by moonbeams,
you'll be as safe as in daylight under big trees;
no owl frightens anyone with a happy coo!
A hidden beauty can also be seen at night,
watch luminous fireflies and stars blend to delight;
He had a definite purpose for everything!
Some never stare at the Heavens, they're ungrateful...
they deny the existence of the Eternal;
I exult Him with songs and thoughts of gratefulness!
How beautiful and Infinite is His universe,
so opulently it shows its awesome brilliance;
look at stars, find joy in them...praise God evermore!
How long must I cry inside
How many times must I die in this life
How often will I fall short
How many dreams must I abort
How many empty nights must I endure
How many second guesses before I am sure
How long will this nothingness last
About as long as this emptiness has
How much longer must I be alone
How much longer can I hold my own
On what day will I feel alright
On what day will I have my white knight
In which hour will I feel content
At which time will I stop my descent
When can I expect a blessed event
How much longer can this go on
How much more can this sorrow encroach upon
It was 43 years ago today
Herman Miller brought the cube our way
Ending open seating in the bay
It’s the Office Cubicles’ Birthday
Without the cubicle where would we be
Open space as far as you could see
Everybody watching you and me
It’s the Office Cubicles’ Birthday
The cubicle means so much to us
They heard us laugh, they heard us cuss
Always here without a fuss
It’s the Office Cubicles’ Birthday
We should celebrate this blessed event
After all the time in cubes we’ve spent
And it’s up to you to give consent
It’s the Office Cubicles’ Birthday
So here’s to Herman Miller
With all our gratitude
May he spend all his eternity
In a 7 by 8 cube!
Mdailey
Happy birthday to my cubicle
That 8 by 7 space
That’s stood by me through thick and thin
Here in this office place
Every person I meet
Is a blessed event
Waiting to happen.
I stand tall and straight
Because they are me
And I am them.
I lift them up
As I lift myself
Into a blessedness
That plays its quiet song
With the starlight's
Touch at midnight.
People gathered, music played,
a silent moment - time delayed.
Then welcoming the gathered folk,
the speaker began with a joke.
Welcoming those who chose to stay
(for some went home right away).
Our need for Him was sent in song.
A brother prayed for the gathered throng.
The speaker told of an earlier time.
When John baptized our Lord, divine.
Then elder and sister went down into the font.
Immersed in water to fill the want.
The elder spoke and then baptized.
A youth's wish was realized.
Freshly washed and cleansed from sin
a new life, beginning fresh, again.
A sister told of a gift treasured most,
The gift of the Holy Ghost.
Then bestowed with laying on of hands.
Membership in Christ's church begins.
A gift received, a welcome made,
"How Great Thou Art" was sung, a sister prayed.
We all witnessed a blessed event.
Christ's love for us is evident.