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Best Hope Poems | Poetry

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New Hope Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Hope poems are below this new poems list.

Contact is Hope by Blake, John
Clouds of hope by nnoli, richard
Radiant Hope by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Hope In Colors Fair by Gentile, Mike
Hurt and Hope by Sprouse, Andy
I Hope, If Nothing Else by Ibeh, Edward
hope exits by Mittal, Akansha
To Hope Apocalyptic by NYAGA, LEWIS
HOPE by C. Joshua , Orochi
Hope, The Paint Mover by Sinha-Roy, Subimal

View all new Hope Poems

The Best Hope Poems

Details | Hope Poem |

Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes - with Silent One

The Guardian
		Melodic lullabies echo	
		As heart strings strum secret chords
		As transcendental images appear
		Stargazers are lost for words
		Kaleidoscopic Illuminations
		Paint the sky in optimistic light
		Hope descends in serene silence
		Floating through shadows of the night
		Dancing spirits move to dulcet tunes
		Shadows can be seen against the moon
		Oh Redeemer do you hear their call?
		Take with you those who have gone too soon
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah 
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah
From the mouth of Babes	
		To hallowed ground we trip hand in hand
		A new chapter to embrace in its splendour
		Ring out voices on notes sweet and clear
		To the universe our souls will surrender
		Fragments of the past spun into flags of freedom
		Our Victory March erased from strife
		Away with the racing winds ever so bold
		Singing Hallelujah to hail a new Life
		The lighter the air the higher we climb
		No more the fetid chitter chatter
		To the fading strains of a repetitive tune
		Not broken -We rise - We matter
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
The Guardian
		Cyber conducts no hateful words
		Whisper soft winds only of love
		Ring euphonious echoes of Rapturous joy
		While Heaven beckons from above
		Finally free from those who judge,
		Eyes glow as laughter begins to vibrate
		Running together through fields of freedom
		Babes hum rhapsodies that liberate.
From the mouth of Babes
		Jubilous our shouts as onward we go
		Skipping, laughing as each other we chase
		Heaven embraces as we run to her arms
		Soothed we feel in her cocooned embrace
		Dissipate grey clouds from this Promised Land
		Our Hallelujahs peal out sweet and light
		Celestial Symphonies reach a crescendo
		As the stars twinkle lustrous tonight
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah

Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Silent One for his contributions and collaborating with me to bring this message of Hope to parents and loved ones who have suffered the extreme sadness through loss of their innocent children and the dark despair that follows. 

Tragic as their loss is, this poem is to offer solace and perhaps help them understand their child has not totally gone. In ‘Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes’, this is what I envision it to be beyond the void of criticism and bullying, where Ethereal beings welcome them back to another innocent realm where they readily resume childlike exuberance. Perhaps, they will return in another time away from their dark experience.’

For my friend Kate Pennington an amazing lady dedicated to helping the youth in ‘Beyond a Joke’ Anti-Bullying Center, Australia, for whom I wrote ‘Starry Starry Night’ some time ago.

Copyright © Maria Williams/Silent one | Posted July 2017

POTW 9th July 2017

Details | Hope Poem |

Tears on her pillow - continued from A girl named Sue


Tears for a Mother
Fears for a Father gone
Fate deals an unfair hand
The door to youthful joy closing
on adolescent shoulders imposing
grown up responsibilities instead

Eyes sadly deprived 
See not the panorama
of pursuing cloud shapes
that conceal a frivolous Sun
playing hide and seek behind
Nor do they see the mischievous stars
scurrying in and out of the path
of the Moon’s orbital course
causing her impatience and wrath

No skipping joyously
through fields of heather
startling unsuspecting butterflies
No fantasy fairy fables
of where one seeks 
an elusive four leaf clover*
No Christmas present peeks
under a non-existent twinkling tree
No answers to eternal questions
of love are sought
over plucking daisy petals
I love you ~ I love you not

Pushed aside let them be 
For the young at heart
for those who see 
her armour doesn’t slip
She has distanced herself
from emotional injury

Why then under a blanket of darkness 
do streams of tears copiously flow
re-dampening a pillow
already soaked from the night before?
  
Reflections of regret 
as she had watched him walk away
The shame of being tagged
Placed in a stereotypical box
Typecast with irrevocable
disparaging words of
 ‘slag’ ‘skank' ’ whore’
Accusations cast loosely 
no longer ‘water off a duck’s back’
brutally now strike a hurtful blow 

Did she imagine the compassion in his eyes?

No emphatic eyes have yet seen 
what surely is a disadvantaged life?
Providing some comfort to ease the pain
for a sick mother who lies dying
are fraught with risks and strife

She questions yet again
Could the ‘wheels of fate’ be just altered?
Truth for Truth the Golden Rule
Trading kisses for cigarettes
is unquestionably uncool

Could Negative energy be interrupting Life’s Grand Scheme?
Where hides that elusive four leaf clover?
Or does it manifest to only those who dream?
 
And there he stands nervously at the school gates
A bunch of wild daisies in his hand
Oblivious to the snide smirks of the others  
curious to see who he awaits

Apprehension and remorse in his eyes
Magically erased and replaced with euphoric joy
When he perceives her radiant smiles

Smiles that bring the curious sun out
pushing through darkened clouds
Illuminating the end of the tunnel bright
So she can see that rare delight
  
As her Hope intervened to send Faith
And his Love conceded to intercede Fate to make amends
The fairies shower luck and blessings
To the four leaf clover friends

*Four leaf clover  ~ the first reference to luck might be from an 11-year-old girl, who wrote in an 1877 letter to St. Nicholas Magazine -  “Did the fairies ever whisper in your ear, that a four-leaf clover brought good luck to the finder”.

Details | Hope Poem |

An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the
evening to be appropriate for the purpose.
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by
our café.

When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew,
I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true,
A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent
Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent.

I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more.
Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore,
The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry,
As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by.

The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane
As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes.
The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave
And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve.

My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war
But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before.
She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside,
And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride.

Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart,
For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part.
Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear
That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear.

The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years,
Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears,
When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew,
And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.

Details | Hope Poem |

The Peephole that is the Moon

An infinite door of midnight blue;
glowing peephole that is the moon.
Dare I look before turned to dust?
Yes, dear friend, I surely must.

In the midst, a city of finest gold,
large as the earth; immense and bold.
Quoins of pearl, this must be known,
the lusture seemed a life, it's own.
Rising from it, a mountainous temple;
whisps of prayers escape the steeple.

Without the city, fields of crystal flowers,
and trees more akin to wind chime towers.
Platinum trunks doning metalic leaves.
Angelic music when brushed with their wings.

Out from all this, layers of various planes
seemingly worlds of their own, yet all of the same.
Once starving children and homeless ones too,
with comforts of home; endless tables of food.
One plane of great sports, children running free;
prosthetics and wheelchairs, now trophies and glee.
Another, Indian braves running with buffalo,
women laughing carefree with children in tow.
Serene planes of beaches and tropical breezes.
On none was found pain, lameness or diseases.
Thousands of planes, but my favorite to view;
families and the ancients with no need of adieu.
So euphoric, this sight, but there is more to tell,
as three glorious chimes of the great temple bell.

All froze still as beams of golden light
transported them to the temple in quiet.
The most beautiful prayers and songs arose.
From within the city; pure love aglow.
Three bells again and all were beamed out;
some to the same planes, some different routes.

I wanted so badly, to open the door
and be in this place forever more,
but the door was locked and I had no key,
then an angel turned and flew towards me.
Approaching the peephole, that is the moon,
It said, "Don't worry, you'll be here soon."
I have need of a key, I began to implore,
and it slipped a note neath the midnight door.

I unfolded the note; three lines within,
and three nails fell out; payment of sin.
The first line proclaimed, the door was faith.
The second; the beams are God's loving grace.
Overcome by peace as I read the third line.
Jesus is the way, the truth and the light,
and I remembered a scripture that so sweetly states;
"For by grace, through faith, are ye saved."

Details | Hope Poem |

Waiting to be free

             Waiting to be free

I am dying, but not like anybody who died.
     I am living, but in the rainbow, I do reside. 
How much longer will I go until secrets unveil?
     My mind cannot comprehend but my heart will decide.
My problems are too simple, my remedy complex;
     Love is my medicine, which I have identified.
Destination is unknown; the journey is too short,
     My vehicle is broken, our driver is mystified. 
My body is a cage, my soul is shackled inside. 
     Speak not of troubles, my pain will be justified.
The door is half open; I can see the ray of love, 
     My heart will take over until we’re all unified.
Tomorrow, I will fly with swallows, they know the path.
     Who can you trust “Haloo”? There is no one to confide.

March 1st, 2016   Haloo


I dedicate this poem to Daniel Turner, for all his love and friendship.

Details | Hope Poem |

Before and Beyond The Bed

When 
When did a bed become your prison
I see your strength absorbed
Absorbed by the mattress 
I turn you
Trying to prevent sores
Who would have thought soft sheets
White sheets
Could cut like glass
I hold on to you
The younger you
Remembering your smile
your vitality
I had thought you to be
The most beautiful woman in the world
It is said that boys fall in love with their mothers
What I miss most 
Yes most of all is laughter
Playful exchanges
Those times no one else existed
The moments when we were the best of us
Before life became real
Responsibilities
Chasing of dreams
Growing up
I thank you for my humor
My irreverence 
My questioning
My creativity
These were not accidents
They sprouted from the ground you nurtured
The listening
The time you spent
The cheering I heard as I lived my journey
I knew I could always come home
Now you are home 
My home
Let me read to you my stories
We still have smiles to share
You who I love 
Who cared for me
I will not abandon you to a strangers care
Endings matter
I will usher you to your beginning
This bed can't hold one as strong as you
One day soon
You will skip into paradise
You will pick daisies
You will place them in your long flowing hair
When the time is right I will join you
When I have accomplished all that I need to do
I will miss you
I will cry for myself
Not for you
Because I know
You live beyond this room
I will once again
Know
You are the most beautiful
Woman in the world!


Dedicated to my Friend Armand.

Details | Hope Poem |

ALWAYS HAVE HOPE

(For my friend Aisling: da'iman 'amal)


In the night that runs on fear, smile at me.
When nightmares haunt, laugh at me.
When demons show their ugly masks, beam at me.
And always, ever have hope.

When your head is so full it cascades, stare at stars.
As thoughts spill ferociously, softly seek them.
Forget thousands of misplaced words, see glimmers
Of hope, always have hope.

Days where you can't hear your thoughts, listen to music.
Minutes failing to making sense, immerse in singing.
'Seconds' a word without meaning, tune in harmony.
Believe in hope, there always is hope.

When nothing rhymes, you almost lose it,
In darker days, you cannot meet it,
In doubt, despair, or anger, it will elope,
But it will return, not ever lose hope!

***

January 21, 2017

Details | Hope Poem |

Internal Interview

Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth

Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth 
Raw exposure of glory days forgone

Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation 
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm

Details | Hope Poem |

kaleidoscope

through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..

with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
bright, sparkling,blinding..

the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..

this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..

simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..

fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..

therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..

revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..

to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..

regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..

with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..

kaleidoscope..

broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..

for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..

tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..

becoming one; beautifully and with faith..

kaleidoscope.

Details | Hope Poem |

I Saw a Sundrop: Constanza

I saw a sundrop in a field,
a daffodil to be exact,
stand brave upon the snow-filled tract.

In blighting cold it would not yield;
long since its fellows disappeared
to that one spot it still adhered,

though flurries did the winter wield.
The autumn did its namesakes in
before the hoarfrost could begin

and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
with falling rain becoming snow.
The way of death it would not go

as though behind a covert shield
that kept its sunlit attitude
when sleet unto the land ensued.

I saw a sundrop in the field,
in blighting cold it would not yield,
though flurries did the winter wield
and slicing gusts now unconcealed,
as though behind a covert shield.

11/15/17

Best Hope Poems | Poetry

New Hope Poems

The Best Hope Poems

Wind From The Sea

Edinburgh

Closer

Best Friend Defined

Love One Another

Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes - with Silent One

There is still beauty

BUTTERFLY KISS

Sand Castle De Mal

- My Dreams -

M

Tears on her pillow - continued from A girl named Sue

Tears to Weep

The Tower rebuilt

Venus Gifts A Yarrow's Kiss

Silver Haze

Love Sleeps, Never Dies

Windowpanes

The Peephole that is the Moon

Waiting to be free

Before and Beyond The Bed

ALWAYS HAVE HOPE

Internal Interview

kaleidoscope

I Saw a Sundrop: Constanza