Best Heavenwards Poems


Starry Night

Starry starry night, multitudes we see 


Countless stars reaching out, on to infinity.


Mystery of mysteries, such wonders do you show


The secrets that you keep, mere mortals cannot know.


Heavenwards we gaze,  imaginations taking flight


How we marvel at the universe, on a  starry, starry night.
© Gary Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Undervalued Truth Begins

Forgiving is the true nature and value 
of the child lost learning ways 
in which direction expelling darkness 

From internal love finding a sinner within 
unveiling oneself offering the pain of the suffering 
heavenwards our wings are the shield of protection 

An instrument that wipes unclean dust away 
to make way for the light of truth 
slowly a cross will lift of the shoulders 

We are slaves burdened unto the pain of desires 
that where born from love on this earth alone 
Divinity is the real deal love that burns eternally grateful 

No longer blind to sinners or sin 
its there a heart finds peace and solice 
knowing from the crooked road walked 

In hell wisdom learns us many lessons in life 
we pray for those who are lost in direction 
always to the day we leave this world 

Destinies true love never dies 
He died for our sins Almighty who is all forgiving 
Lord I now take a leaf out of your book 

Burying the past in the hope He will forgive those 
who have sinned against us 
blindly fooled into believing a falsity

A Love Poem

Gold upon gold,
half-hidden upon the burning aisle of earth.
Sickle points raised heavenwards,
where mountains belch loudly from the grass
of spontaneous repasts...

Gold, subtle and cream, posted
for the illumination of half days,
when the moiety of stolen glare visits
the eye of the world.

O Gold,
shine on!
You increase my pulse with that gleam,
so breath-taking, like the birth of a mirror.
Sickle of gold, pierce this gloom of distress NOW!
Fall into my palms silently like a Darling’s lone trinket.


Spring Flowers

Floriography

Allamanda in April slowly open its trumpets around posts that look like 
Buttercups of honey for bees to dive in to replenish their striped bellies
Crocus's yellow stigmas that flavour our food are a blessing by Hermes, but
Dead Nettle is hardly so dead with her fuschia  coloured flowers on tall stalks
Early Star Of Bethlehem awaits for snow to melt and to be reborn to bless
Freesias that innocently rest atop wedding cakes with their snowy icing buds as
Glory Lily with reflexed pink petals look like a turkish cap in a showstopper
Hyacinth clusters ease tension while boasting off its colourful array of petals 
Irises' three petals looking heavenwards and one downwards links us to gods
Jasmine's pristine beauty rests in my bun, leaving a trail of fragrance in morns
Knife Acacia's drooping yellow clusters add beauty to xeriscape landscaping
Larkspur's purple petals are like curtains displaying an open light heart while
Mountain Laurel in translucent white with pink accents are humbled before
Narcissus smiling from above the rockery at its reflected beauty in the pond below
Orchids, rare and royal, flourish in moss and add grandeur to pinned coats
Portulaca overhangs my flower pots on boundary walls in appeasing hues 
Queen of nights likens to a creamy lotus on a cactus, blooms but once annually
Red Hot Poker's stand like tall red candies in clusters attracting children
Spring Snowflakes are reversed  scalloped white cups dangling with breeze
Teddy dahlias in naughty bonniness wear the brightest sunny hoods
Ursinia fields wave in the spring breeze like floating islands in an orange sea
Virginia Bluebells ring in the spring, chiming in nooks till silenced by the rains 
Wake Robin is stemless and sits on leaves with its fetid aroma to attract flies 
Xeranthemum is purpled in royalty to favour love and changes its owner's life
Yellow Star of Bethlehem grows wildest in landscapes, yet aspiring to help
Zinnia blossom as space-flower in its debut aboard the NASA space station 

April 26, 2016
For Shadow Hamilton
Abecedarian

To An Angel

I cast my gaze heavenwards
To a place where the love angels dwell
I can't see you, but hear my words  
And my heart desires as well

She placed her heart on a platter
Not for me to consume nor to savour
But to keep ahold and cherish forever 
Yet, shower upon a sheer ardour 

Dear love angels hear my plea
Life changes like a quicksilver 
I know not tomorrow, though I see 
But I yearn to keep her forever 

Quell my worries, my fears too
I'm possessed with ardour
If I lose this jewel, I'd be a fool 
And ridded of heavenly favour
 
Would you rather plume out now
Perchance I'll see your celestial visage
As you clad in a holy alabaster gown 
And set your ear towards my message

Bless me with plenitude of wealth
So I can give her a paradise
And from all quarters of the earth,
Pluck her the treasures of life

Robin, Rook, Swan and Dove

A robin its breast as red as cherries

The rook in mourning dress,
Its nest in the graveyard tree,
Cawing in sympathy to tears of distress,
Looking down sadly on misery,
Hoping its young do not see.

The long necked swan swims,
So elegant on water,
Its beauty supreme;
On land it looks ungainly:
A beauty queen in jack boots.

No sacrifice, the dove coos love 
Snowy body soaring heavenwards.

Jack Horne
27th April 2011
for Constance's Four Beautiful Birds contest
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.


Heavenly Words

Say seven words
to send me heavenwards
heavy holiness heats
as the heavens turn
I hope in hell
that you horribly burn

Skiddaw, a Cumbrian Fell

Highborn, regal Skiddaw
Such grace in one so high,
A countenance of majesty,
A fortress to my eye.

Looking down on all around you
Immense in all your might,
From your foot, we lift our eyes
To wonder at the sight.

Rising like a titan
From the verdant valley floor,
In splendid isolation 
Heavenwards, you soar.

A transfixing, noble aspect
Such wonder you exude,
High and mighty Skiddaw,
A king, in solitude.









Entry for
YOUR CHOICE(5),
Any form,any theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
10/6/2019. Placed 2nd.
© Gary Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Not Bleary-Eyed

Not bleary-eyed, for the Lord said to trust,
He always means what ever he says.
So I reach up my hands heavenwards,
And he reaches down with his right hand of
 righteousness.

He always means what he says,
I will trust in his ways for that.
And he reaches down with his right hand of
righteousness.
For many times he did just so.

I will trust in his ways for that.
I proved this also ancient men of old,
For many times he did just so.
How much more can I explain?

Yet we hold on O so faithfully,
I will trust in his ways for that.
For many times he did just so,
Even when  we least expect, he did. 

Where can I look for more?
Yet we hold on O so faithfully,
I proved this also ancient men,
For many times he did just so.

I know that God is so true,
Where can we look for more? 
For many times he did just so.
He is God and God alone, he cannot
 tell a lie!

I will trust in his ways for that,
He always means what he says,
For many times he did just so,
Not bleary-eyed, for the Lord said to trust.

January Stance

Look and review.  Look and review.
The New Year is coming.  Review’s what we do.
What have I believed in? What lies have been told?
What truth has ascendance? For truth is my gold.
What lies have invaded and reworked the Truth?
Where have I departed, diminished forsooth?
Where have I veered off from true Liberty’s path,
Compromised integrity, brought on God’s wrath.

The New Year is coming.  A new slate is here.
History’s drawing new pictures of fear.
Will it be fear of what people might say,
Or fear of the Good Lord who loves us today.
Shall I pay attention to cultural lies?
Or shall I look Heavenwards, one of God’s spies
Who constantly roam around Heavenly places
To bring back its perfumes in kindness and graces.

The spies of our Father have wisdom to go
From a closet of prayer to the big world below
With the gifts of the Spirit, of wisdom in kind,
Knowledge  un-natural, miracle mind.
So how may I check that my pathway lies true?
More time in the Heavenly places is due,
That the words of my mouth, which are weapons enough,
May achieve on this earth all His miracle stuff!

Ghost Dance

Hands on our neighbours’ shoulders,
we encircle the decorated pine,
my chanting father at the centre.
Faces painted, dressed in white, hair adorned, 
we march, chant and wail,
throwing dust over our heads.
Then stand, hands clasped overhead, eyes heavenwards.

Holding hands, we sway, 
moving in time to our chants.
Faster, faster.
Everything blurring,
the ground becomes dust,
my neighbours drop, twitching, quivering,
but we don’t stop.
Faster, faster.
The ground’s coming up to meet me…

Finally, we sit in a circle
And come out of the trance.
Each stands at the centre, and relates an experience.
I say I saw an eagle flying high,
and then swooping low,
but when I reached for it, it wasn’t there.

About Sioux
© Jack Horne  Create an image from this poem.

Living Vicariously

Do you ever look into the  field of azure
to a plane just a dot in the sky

and imagine yourself in the cockpit
As it freely ambles by

Looking down on this patchwork of earth below
Unfettered as free as a bird

having escaped the bird catchers net
by gravity no longer deterred

Slowly ploughing celestial heights
Scattering seeds of hope

When in the trenches look heavenwards
A visible reminder to cope

Rise above it brethren
Reach out touch the face of God

Draw closer to him he'll draw closer to you
This promise thankfully applaud

On Second Thoughts

And shall this piece of twisted wire
bring me all I could desire,
and will this ugly-looking button,
that tears my flesh to shredded mutton,
grant me up there a first-row seat
where heavenly angels come to meet?
Can Heaven in mercy ever cover
my slaying children with their mother?
What of those maids in Paradise?
I yearn for them, but what's the price?
Lo, I behold a pale white dove.
Is this a sign from Heaven above?
No more to see the golden sun,
the silver moon when day is done?
Renounce the joys of married bliss
for an airy-fairy virgin's kiss?
Should I God's earthy gifts despise.?
There's time anon to Heavenwards rise.

The Seasons

Spring

Green buds on beach trees
Bluebells carpet forest floor
New born baby cries

Summer

Sleepy afternoon
Fly humming at window pane
Cornstalks bent with gold

Autumn

Ghostly morning mist
Blue smoke curling heavenwards
Incense of burnt leaves

Winter

Starry velvet sky
Silent snowflakes drifting down
Wolf howls at the moon

Spirit of the River

It laughs with the coming of spring, 
on riverbanks wild grasses cling, 
flowers waft a scent through faint mist, 
on gentle winds leaves sway and twist

It drifts and floats with its current, 
pursuing visions not urgent, 
but flowing spontaneously down, 
to merge with the sea its own crown

It carries a song in its heart, 
not let tempests wrench it apart, 
cherishes the music pulsing, 
inside deep waters, caressing.

How exquisite this nature’s bond, 
boundless, untouched till time beyond 
the breath of the universe blows
over their depths, grace it bestows.

So I gather my thoughts in joy, 
lift them to the light to enjoy,
blaze a path heavenwards to fill, 
and say to my soul, “peace, be still”.


@jjote 042621

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