Best Pagan Poems


Premium Member Summer Solstice

Cloudless sky, naked shades of azure.
Oh, summer vibrant, resplendent sun,
We thank Lugh for his longest luster,
Grateful for the bounty he gives everyone.

Sun lights awareness in every entity.
Oh, boldest, brightest waking day,
Season of growth, splendor, and fertility.
Abundant Earth is teeming with DNA.

We plant the new seeds in our souls.
Oh, wondrous, endless fire regenerative,
May we sip from love and passion’s bowls.
May we always pause, reflect and be appreciative.

Each summer we must willingly shed our tropes,
And rediscover each other with newfound hopes.

Rainsticks and Drums Native Chants and Pagan Dreams, remastered


Amazon mist  and rainy mornings green as the day God made them 
dropping from a moist sky full of even grays and sheltering light 
peaceful music playing from the spheres of a dense forest dream 
we are all little humans in a big big giant cave,  ....    the rain 
Pitter patter drops on thirsty tree in a world that is evened once again 
sheets of rain fall from my window and I click click click and glean 
a slow memory of old, photographs of mom and dad inside the garden 
we were small and happily drinking in the scene  ....          the rain 
A Sentinel watches from a soldiering evergreen, I lived there before 
the white washed walls of peace and the age old chanterelle dance  
as raindrops settle in my soul, I compose a poem about the downpour.    
Petrichor scents permeate my living space as I listen to ...        the rain 
Rainsticks and drums Native chants and Pagan dreams of old, I remember,  
Lady Gianne and her healing chants, how she lifted her face to the winds.
"Heal me now and make me whole" * " Bring peace and love forevermore"
As nature creates pathways to equity, the rain loves US,
again and again and again. ....   the rain.

Premium Member Pagan Mistress

Oh pagan mistress, your sins weighed heavy
Your conspicuous makeup masks your unsightliness
If only your admirers knew of your sins against man
They would have, long ago, cast you into the streets
Harlot, bide your time, bide your time o' woman of ill repute
Soon, your patrons will see you for who you really are
Then, the weeping and gnashing of your teeth will be


Premium Member Pagan Rose--Abc

ambrosia…
bosoms climb desire’s ecstasy,
flesh grinds, heated in juicy kisses--
lips mounting, nibbling
often pagan… quivering rose
succumbs to unbuttoned virility; wanton…
x-marking yearning’s zest!


Allright Poet's ABC Contest
Re-submitted  5/10/2020

The Death of Common Sense

The death of common sense has been under reported lately 
As a coups d'état has taken the world by storm.

Now 
Upon his throne "stupidity" holds council with callousness, greed , hate and war ,all of whom smugly agree it's seem like a darker future a head .

Stupidity  calls for Suffering , but she is busy in foreign lands at present , so war is sent with a message to bring her home.
Meanwhile callousness and hate shall have to do her bidding until she returns .

So the word goes out,  common sense is dead ,
Stupidity and it's ways now rule us all !
© Simon King  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Religion: Pagan Life

Now a story to finish this hour of news, 
Our reporter from out in the field,
Tom’s on the spot with the universe itself, 
Where the answer to life’s been revealed....

...Hi everyone, we’re live on the street,
With the guy on a deep acid fry,
What is the answer we’re all looking for???
“Hey man let me answer you why,

“You see man, we’re all matter and joules, 
Energy and heat condensed right down to a slow,
Vibrating pattern of conscious experience, 
And together like a river we flow,

From life into death back to life back to death, 
Life’s a dream that goes on forever,”
Well thankyou Tom from out in the cold, 
Back to Frank to wrap up the weather.


The Beltane Fires

As April leaves us like a lamb
May comes dancing in
The sunlight glowing up the sky
And celebrations can begin. 

Come see the daylight as it bursts
Upon the rocky shore
And we can light the Beltane fires 
And winter is no more. 

With oak and ash and willow,
Rowan, holly too
The nine woods of the Beltane
Will perform their task for you. 

Hawthorn, hazel, Alder join
And birch with silver bark
So now the ritual fires can guide
New life from winter’s dark. 

Come spirits of the forest
Dance within the smoke and sing,
Of our Beltane fire we light for you
And fertility you bring.

Pagan Faith

Many gods and goddesses may exist, 
however, each one only portrays 
the many personalities of one wholly 
being when combined.
Our Mother cherishes us all but still
our inane habits inhibit the possibility
of a peaceful planet.
We take everything for granted not thinking
of the consequences of our many selfish actions.
Our Mother exists in everything we see and do,
still life displays a certain essence to cause
destruction, extinction or simply evolution.
Each of us behold the ability to change but our
stubbornness creates a false image of security,
wrapping us all in a thick layer of cotton-wool.
Pagan faith is a way of becoming one with
nature enabling us to see how precious life is.
Sadly, our subconscious makes us blind to the
fragmented forms of how life behaves; life can 
suddenly become dark and flooded with fear
and melancholy making us see life in a 
different light making many bitter and scarred.
Nature is the centre of pagan faith thus it is
seen as precious and is thus treasured and 
deeply appreciated by all followers.
Many of us learn life’s most important 
lesson at a turning point in our lives: 
life can be altered in a blink of an eye, 
like day surrendering to the night 
setting free the all seeing eye, it 
provides the only light through the darkness.
As inevitable as it may be, darkness
has to submit to light releasing the
slumbering spirits of life.

Premium Member Pagan Devotional For Noonday

Bringer of day,
Lord of Fire
Help cleanse my ways
O noble Sire!

Premium Member Chief of the Tuatha De Danann

I went walking the footpath between life and death.
It was there I first discerned the strum of a harp.
I hastened my step, tracing wooded trail with stealth`
as the resonant resplendent tones grew clear and sharp. 
I quickly came upon a figure the size of a mountain.
He carried a manful bearing even as he played.
Smiling at me like he knew me, I felt he was my champion.
“I am the Dagda, god of life and death,” he conveyed.
“I rule agriculture, fertility, seasons and magic.”
Next to him was a cauldron of plenty along with his club
of life or death, and his eyes stored memories both joyous and tragic.
Humbled by this good, great god of Ireland, I felt like a flub.

“Do not trouble yourself,”  he paused and said with wisdom.
“You are always most welcome, here in my kingdom.”

Yule

Shortest day, longest night 
Celebration of light
Glistening ice and snow
Temperatures low
Bare trees
Ponds freeze

Dress warm
Long sleeve uniform 
Cardigans and sweatshirts 
Goodbye mini skirts
Silk and wool 
Indoor pool

Soup and stew
Don’t misconstrue 
Wish Bread
Glaze spread
Cinnamon and cloves 
On stoves

Ice skating 
Snow tube inflating 
Snow skiing 
Snowboard leaping 
Snowshoe wearing 
Spectators staring

Hope, intentions, and new year 
Celebrate and cheer 
Yule brings hope of life
Robins and wrens in strife
Red, white, green, and gold
My, it’s cold!
© Ja Angelo  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Pagan Devotional For Sunset

Farewell to this day's gifted light,
Welcome now to starshine bright!
The wheel turns on as Earth spins about;
We ask for Harmony within, without.

The European Pagan

Turning from Christ

to disbelief;

as Satan confronts

the death

and hell…


Its expression

withering

the self and

its culture.


The suicidal genocide—

a gesture

in guilt's name

for stewardship's misdeeds:


Evil

in its self

Judgement.



© S. Wesley Mcgranor

Premium Member Rose Meadow

Rose Meadow, an outcast woman,
	portrayed by Fertie Fields.
The film chronicles her Pagan beliefs.
A supporting cast boasts
	Roland (Rollie) Hills and Hayden Hayfield.
	Cameos by Misty Marsh and Lily Lake.
Marquee brags of Nature’s spiritual mysteries
	comprising the life of Rose Meadow.

Be Aware of Pro Pagan Da

though different types same as in the begining  			               
liken to eve's death by deception to lead astray through omitting              
advertisements a sorrowful conception Latin for advert men's minds 		   
in times past hid not their agenda but a war alliance		               
what a crime from grace and truth they desire the old wine 			   
for this world will pass away along with the junk science system                            
propaganda a science falsely so called for the worldly wisdom      		  
ad nauseam it should make you nauseous the big lie to us 			 
repeated enough times, may begin to be taken as the truth.    	                 
you should know this one as you speak truth from under the bus                                
ad hominem your character under fire not the truth in question                                  
do not get on their band wagon for straight is the gate      			 
narrow is the way not a factoid in fact the right direction 		                
love thy neighbor speaking the truth every man his mate                                           
turning my cheek are weapons not carnal not a straw man's reflection                        
tares deceiving and being deceived spin doctors reproduce                                        
to list a few from double speak easy's false store front's                		  
as seen on T.V. a cult a personality they are reduced                                                  
with contradiction's the common man bares the brunt    		                
they are waving false flags like freedom is not free				  
for this your forgiving love they call you odd                                                                 
sporting them selves wise oh can you see 			                  
for this one nation and all under the true God                                                         
they try to lead you astray in the land of the free
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

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