Best Prayers Poems
Life without purpose is barren indeed.
There can’t be a harvest unless you plant the seed.
There can’t be attainment unless there’s a goal.
Ask Jesus to forgive you for your trespasses so He can cleanse your soul.
If we send no ships out, no ships will come in,
And unless there’s a contest nobody can win.
For games can’t be won unless played,
And prayers can’t be answered unless they’re prayed.
So whatever is wrong with your life today.
You will find a solution if you kneel down and pray.
Not just for pleasure, enjoyment, and health.
Not just for honor and prestige and wealth.
But pray for a purpose to make life worth living,
And pray for the joy of unselfish giving.
For prayer is your gladness and blessings from heaven is your reward.
When you make your life’s purpose the choice of the Lord.
So when someone ask you today, “How you doing?”
You should say, “ fine because I prayed.”
“My Philosophy is Prayers Birth Blessings”
I call on divine help when I’m in need
Friends who pray too I know their prayers are heard.
I have perfect faith, in the Lord I heed
I am so grateful for God’s holy word.
I will not worry, yet have trust instead.
I bathe in His glory, I have no fear
I walk with the Lord as I look ahead.
I feel His presence and know He is near.
I’ve seen great results whenever I pray.
I accept His will, His best will be done.
Miracles happen in a wondrous way!
Blessings are birthed by the Lord’s only son.
When I bow my head and plead with prayer
I know my Father will always be there.
11-4-21
Your Own Philosophy Statement~N/A~
Contest Judged: 11/4/2021 9:50:00 AM
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke |
Dear beloved
I close my eyes and whisper to the breeze
That wherever you are, you be in so much ease
And that eternal joy, and a good rest, you they give a kiss
Dear kids
Here I kneel
In the middle of the empty forest, accompanied only by bushes and trees
And I pray, that you get all big round juicy bliss to keep
Dear friend
I open my arm on the silent beach
And hope that the ocean accompany with wails of prayers for thee
In all my wish, of the body, heart, and mind, with smiles I call for you to heal
Dear siblings
Here I always pray, as for mother and father, so for thee
An auspicious fulfilments for your dreams
With many such happy years for you to see
Dear reader
I pray for you the best, as you read
And for you a share of luxuries and bliss
Coupled with sweet vanilla flavoured peace
17. PRAYER FROM WITHIN
Touch my heart where it hurts,
Heal all my emotional wounds and cuts.
Grease my heart with ointment of joy
So potent that no circumstance can destroy.
Touch my soul where it sickens
And my heart where it weakens.
Help me fulfill my purpose in life
And be my power over worldly strife.
Touch my heart where it deadens
And cause me to glorify the Heavens.
Make me your beloved, Dear God
And silence my foes with your mighty sword.
Sweeten my thoughts that had once been sour
That I may smile like a sun flower.
Endorse the re-birth of my destiny,
And protect me from Satan, man’s greatest enemy.
To eyes that see spiritually,
prayers at their most ardent
appear like random meteors
or lightening flashes,
ascending suddenly
amidst the myriad of points of light,
creations' more common invocations.
Burgeoning in sky as glitter dreams
or solemn supplications, and some
as fervent pleas from dangers' depths,
they rise and soar. . .
to the glorious celestial door.
Seraphs at the portals,
besieged by beautiful entreaties,
strive to answer each and every one,
but heaven's ways can be mysterious. . .
Ardent prayers unanswered
drift back down,
returned not to their supplicants,
but rather to earth's angels
clothed in flesh,
who prompted by the Spirit,
and at the time ordained,
help fulfill the Father's will.
I may not believe in war
Yet I still believe in you
I am one of the many
You are one of the few
You are standing in harms way
While we're safe in our bed
We're amongst the living
While you're faced with the dead
Horrors I imagine
For you are oh so real
You choose to face the darkness
In your hands you hold cold steel
Yes you fight for freedom
A bastion for what is right
Your greatest weapon your heart
With it you hold back the night
Your life is truly precious
I am sad that you are there
I ask for God's protection
Rest in blankets of our prayer
For Mystic Rose's write to our Heros contest.
I have only my Love
fuel of my heart
a remedy for my mind
winging towards a full Life
taming dormant dreams into verity.
I have only my Faith
nourishing my spirit
a wealth of convictions, a merit
an unseen growing strength
a sweet contentment in despair.
I have only my prayers
an utter submission
a body into oblivion
a soul melting
errant but ascending.
I have only my words
to rhyme with the tone of my heart
and seek a healing
as my soul shakes souls
via verses that do not rhyme.
I can see the past glory, though it is humble now and all the more reverent....
With thoughts of deep ocean bliss,
that comes with fading hope,
I walked along the tide line,
no longer able to cope.
I stared at the setting sun,
its brightness, burns the eyes.
I glanced back at the sand stone cliffs,
where a building caught my eye.
I don't recall it being there,
when I traveled the cliff top path.
I shrugged my shoulders then turned back,
to the ocean and waiting death.
I take a step towards my fate,
when I feel a tap upon my shoulder.
I turn to see who is there,
all I see is sand and boulders.
My eyes are called to the top
and to that small building.
Something there outweighed my need,
so up the cliff path I started walking.
There upon the windswept crest,
were trees leaning with the wind.
I followed the overgrown stone walk,
to the building, just round the bend.
The steeple leaned, but still spoke volumes.
No stained glass to catch the sun.
No bell to call folks to service,
no roof, as the rot had won.
Yet a charm was there to see,
strength came from the ancient stones,
that made up the four standing walls,
of this Chapel, now just bones.
I made my way to the entrance,
amid dead leaves, the scrag that enfolds.
I felt a welcome pour over me,
as I crossed over the threshold.
The setting sun cast long shadows,
that all pointed toward the alter.
My need, took me down the aisle.
Not once did my feet falter.
There He was, looking down,
from a weather beaten cross.
His countenance both pain and love,
I suddenly felt small and lost.
The sun sank deep into the sea,
and gave its final flair.
Within that light I swear I saw,
His face lift, so he saw me there.
I fell to my knees and I prayed,
as I had never prayed before.
I prayed for guidance and His love,
I felt both, to my very core.
I visit that Chapel, now and then.
It's still crumbling with time.
But, to me it has more glory now,
than it did when its bells did chime.
Paula Swanson 9/25/2011
For the contest; Church By The Ocean
Sponsored By Constance La France
Placement: 1st
Perched on a fence post,
Silhouette...against the sun:
The rooster worships.
Echoes of prayers past resound,
Resound within these hallowed walls.
Walls that welcomed all those who came,
Came to join prayer's ancient song.
Kim Merryman
6/7/15
Nette's Four Lines Only contest
visual #1
~~
Oh sweet the forest path where I always meet tranquility,
Thoughts of peace that mingle with the sky above me;
A king has created a forest circle, a ring so calm,
An earthly realm, so heavenly and full of divinity and sanctity.
I draw out my muse and ponder in awe my life,
A princess born my parents tell me, now ageless is my spirit;
Roses red stab my fingers and I have bled into the earth,
And we the children of the world are free to find a path.
With him, the king and with prayers, soft, dim and whispered.
_______________________________
February 1, 2015
Poetry/Verse/Prayers Soft, Dim And Whispered
Copyright Protected, ID 02-637-480-01
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Vespers of the falls,
Exclaiming the earth’s past pains;
Whispers in the mist.
Hearing the words "touch and go,"
I sink into a quagmire of despair
Slipping and sliding on tears of fear
In a swamp of memories
I've but one brother, one sister
Artie's Covid battle unleashed ills
Pandora's Box opened to pneumonia
COPD and emphysema
Now the reaper knocks upon his door
I pray he does not answer
Separated by a thousand miles
I long to see his smile again
To hear his laugh just one more time
I'd follow hope's long road anywhere
Wrap him in the comfort of prayer
Use my shield of love to protect him
His chances tenuous at best
Anxiety chases dreams away
Lord, let me embrace him once more
Before You carry him home
Perched high upon the escarpment
of sandstone rubble, the boy sat,
shaded from the rising of the sun
in the shadow of Kings.
Sharp eyed he preyed
upon the tourist below, and to his God Allah.
His path was a treacherous one
looped and twisting like the snakes of ochre gold
shone cresting the brow of Ramesses
in the unearthly Valley of the Kings;
far from the osprey and marsh grass
of the beloved Nile.
Below the boy, on a zigzag path
between the mouth-like openings to the netherworld,
tourists swarm, ants on a mound of honey stone
suckers of sweetness, oblivious,
as they had done for centuries.
He sat as his father before him
hunkered down knees to chest
the vulture heraldic creature of Upper Egypt
death eater, little had changed except
now the robbers wore blue jeans and not the hajab.
He had earned his small bit
of the twentieth century..hawking
Laurel and fern whisper to the silent night
Blended with the heady scent of thickets
Moss shelters rocky slopes beneath moonlight
Dreams unfold while listening to the crickets
Songs so bold, crisp and full of tender hope
Blended with the heady scent of thickets
Poison ivy and every vine will cling and grope
Erasing all the doubt from those in prayer
Songs so bold, crisp and full of tender hope
Wild and wonderful, the woods never despair
There, amid the pine, there is peace so alive
Erasing all the doubt from those in prayer
Hearts are delighted, inspired so they thrive
Gentling even the darkness, tenderness grows
There, amid the pine, there is peace so alive
Beneath a lustrous moon, leaves will compose
Laurel and fern whisper to the silent night
Gentling even the darkness, tenderness grows
Moss shelters rocky slopes beneath moonlight
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Mark Toney
July 16, 2022