Best Profess Poems


Premium Member To You Alone

I cannot comprehend our great Creator’s mind,
how every galaxy he perfectly designed -
how every atom in the universe is his,
ordered and known by him, as all creation is.
	No eye has ever seen, no ear has ever heard,
	no mind ever conceived the secrets known     
	to him alone.

No mind can fully grasp the myst'ry of your ways -
joyful the heart that trusts and gladly renders praise
for such an awesome love that sent your Son to die.
How could that love extend to sinners such as I?
	I may not ever know why you would choose to show
	your grace to sinful man – though once concealed, 
        through Christ revealed.

Unworthy are my words your glory to express;
loosen my tongue O Lord, your praises to profess.
Though we don’t know in full, we know enough to trust
that you are perfect, wise, all-loving, good, and just.
        No eye has ever seen, no ear has ever heard,
	no mind ever conceived the secrets known 
	to you alone.

"...as it is written, no eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him - but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit" 
                                  ~ I Corinthians 2:9-10

Written 7 Nov 2005
© John Watt  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Lyric

Kiss Loneliness Goodbye Written By Tim Smith and Seren

I sit here and ponder the days that have past
The many loves that I had, that just didn’t last.
One really sticks out, wish I had another chance
Treating her so differently, I’d show her romance.

I loved once a man, who just wanted to play
At being romantic .life was just foreplay.
Thought a kiss would be enough for his turtle dove
Not thinking about feelings, whether I wanted love.	

We would start a family, having a baby or two
We’d live on the hillside, with a beautiful view,
We’d grow old together in the home that we build
Giving my life meaning, I’d be so fulfilled.

He now thinks that he wants me, I am the one
to fill up his heart to make me his own.
Promising me a home on a hillside with a view
Yet he hasn’t vowed that he would be true.

I’d hold her and cherish her til the day we depart
I’d profess to her my love and give her my heart
Romantic nights on that hill gazing up at the moon
Our days filled with laughter, frolicking in the lagoon

Sure he now promises me love for ever after
A life of joy, happiness and full of laughter
On that hillside we’d sit, watching the world go by,
A family, two dogs at our feet, kissing loneliness goodbye.

Penned by Tim Smith and Seren
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member He and Me

They whipped Him
And stripped Him
They tried Him
Crucified Him
They nailed Him
Strength failed Him
They mocked Him
Hurt rocked Him
God forsook Him
Pain shook Him
They hit Him
Spit on Him
They pierced Him
Coerced Him
They hung Him
Thorns stung Him
They slapped Him
Snapped at Him
They riled Him
Reviled Him
Yet He remained dumb
None He did condemn
I was one of them
Saviour Lord Jesus
From sin, He frees us
With love, He sees us
I was not worthy
But, He’s trustworthy
And hence praiseworthy
I’ll praise Him
Gaze at Him
Worship Him
Tight grip Him
Adore Him
Implore Him
Exalt Him
Consult Him
Glorify Him
Satisfy Him
I’ll thank Him
Bank on Him
I’ll love Him
And prove Him
I’ll bless Him
Profess Him
I’ll trust Him
Discuss Him
Cling to Him
Sing of Him.



08.02.2021
Form: Rhyme


Silent Stars

Stars come out to dazzle my eyes.
Glowing bright, they ignite my soul.
Like candles lit across the sky,
night inspires words to gently roll
from my lips to your waiting ear.
I profess my love to you only 
when lights dim low, I hold you near,
and remember our life happily.
All the world seems to fade away
as I look at you in starlit night.
My dreams have changed, but here you’ve stayed.  
You lift me when others fall from sight.
With you, I still feel like that girl
so innocent when we first met.
Like inside a shell, a gleaming pearl,
you still find me when I forget.
Blessings rained down when I found you,
more love and light than I could name.
All the heavens shined on me renewed,
and the stars fell silently in flames.
Form: Rhyme

The Poetry Soup Convention 2011

My name is Gary Fields
And I am at the Poetry Convention
Their are a myriad of Poet's
They are all in contention
There are so many that I may
Want to mention'
So, pay attention
Fore they must do this
In abstention

At my table there are three
Their are four including me

The second choice in my contention
IS Dr. Ram Mehta
He is such an easy catch
He is a voice/a reflection
He shares' so much love and affection
Being one of so few words
His disposition is the best
And his Human Psyche will
Never rest'

Could this be some sort of test
That his deepest guarded  secret's
Are guarded close to his chest

Being a doctor and all
It is unlikely that he will ever confess

Third at the table is the X DESTROYER X POET
Due to the lack of word's
She always' have something for ya
And will certainly destroy ya
If not, then simply ignore ya
Fore she deserves' to seat here

And not just on the foyer

It is a main bone of contention
There is no reason why I can't  enjoy ya
Or at least releave the tension

With her advanced degree
her suplituding pensoin for Poetry
It seems' that her messages' are
Aimed straight for me
She give's to this her all
She never seem to miss a call

And to past the test
One may think that
She seem's to be a little obsessed
Most of all
She keeps' her secret
Buried so close to her breast
And what wonderful breast they
Might be

Only saving for us
The one's she profess to be the best
But never the less
She rises' among the rest

Fouth at the table is Ms. Sweetheart of Poetry
Wish she will spend more Poetry with me
And plain not just ignore me
Because I'm a fan of her now
She introduced me to this race
She is all ways' on the case

She is fully comfortable in her space
I just hope that she won't have to use 
All of her mace,
She composes' herself with grace
Fore this is so much an adventure
And not just some silly old Snail Race
If I haven't said enough by now
Then it is because I am running 
Out of space, or being run out of town
But, there is always one next year
Same time, manybe not
The same old place

                        GF


Gary Fields
Dr. Ram Mehta
X DESTROYER X POET
LINDA Marie/Sweetheart of Poetry

Carol (Next on Deck)


*******For the Contets "Tt The Convention
                                            JUNE 2011
Form: Narrative

Listing To Port

There was a fellow riding a certain train,
And he posted an unpopular refrain,
In it he said, the innocents are dead,
With politicians and voters to blame.

To choose is what many profess, 
And we wouldn’t have anything less,
But our elected use quill, translate that to kill,
And babes end in a mell of a hess.

And into a health bill of lying rot,
They force objectors to kill who would not,
Adding more of their pork to so called choice,
A choice to fool many voters they sought.

Politicians and media corral voters into believing,
Bills laced with hidden agendas they’re feeding.
They make a predator fat as a sly old rat,
At the expense of a still birthed nation in grieving.

When a nation cares more for turtle or whale,
And the desire for virtue goes stale,
You’ll see a Mother’s precious womb,
By choice, become nation’s tomb,
And lawmakers growing a tail.

Don’t let the almighty dollar deceive you,
Or your sense take leave and flee you,
Take a look around before you’re ground,
Into the dust of this obvious preview.

The moral of the story is true and really quite short,
Justice has been given a hell of a thwart,
You may think it ***** but the end of freedom is near,
Our great ship is sinking in it’s port.








,
Form: Limerick


Premium Member Born To Rhyme

With my words I love to play
rhyming everything I say
inside my head words squawk and rage
'til they're released upon the page.
It fills my heart with pure delight
to watch them growing as I write.

Oh how I love to make words rhyme
arranging them in metered time
until I have a perfect line
it sends chills up and down my spine
and I am blessed with endless joy
to use this gift that I employ.

Some of the things I write about
I know must leave some minds in doubt.
"Not good enough" some must claim
but that's ok I feel no shame.
I'll still write the way I do
and to my heart I will be true.

My knowledge of great works is small
in fact I don't know much at all
and I would never dare profess
to be a gifted poetess
'cause when it comes to poetry
I write just what comes naturally.

Born to rhyme, that is my game
and that is all you'll hear me claim.
To me this game is so much fun
it is my picnic in the sun.
It may sound lame or even sappy
but that's all right it makes me happy!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Wolf, the Moon, and Me

Tarnished gray, as  the doves you have scattered away
you were yelping as if the moon were your prey
 
Eclipsed by the sage  you then vanished from eyes
disguised by the chaparral, just as clouds hide the sky

With cunning assurance,  you were closing the distance
Watching me closely,  no resistance between us

~

No one can profess to have full understanding
of the secrets existing, ......or the spirit that binds us.

Yet, we are as one, and as creatures we dwell, 
upon sacred land, upon ancient tales

You've followed me closely, with caution, a friend,
I feel a new spirit, that drifts in the wind

__________________________________________
8/14/18
Contest: Wolves and The Moon
Sponsor: Julia Ward

As Rust Falls From the Anchor

As rust falls from the anchor

Where do sandcastles go
when the tide engulfs the view and 
lonely shorelines crest in tear drops
beneath white capped dream chasers,
foam laced erasers combing sanded wishes,
taking towers in the water's rage
as moats become minor indentations 
on a beach bathed in the moon light,
moving gleams in metronome tickling
as our hearts wash out to sea
drowning in the depths of forbidden love
and with my final breath, 
salt water drenched I profess 
that forbidden or not, I love you
and the lighthouse shines its orbiting light
as I go under for the last time
happy in my declaration 
as rust falls from the anchor
and I wait until we meet again,
on the island of meant to be

Melted Ice Cream Promises

You swear your word is solid
as a silver serving spoon
Well, why does it always feels like
another mis-spoken dog day afternoon
		Hotter than July
in the middle of June
		Cast iron sky
	making fainting hearts swoon
Butter pecan words
all dressed up in their Sunday best lie
Preaching our turn to live the good life
will come in the bye and bye
But now ain’t the right time to be asking why
Melted ice cream promises
	dripping on our hand 
Dripping between the fingers
Two scoops of empty hope given again
Mint chocolate chip words,
supposedly solid as a silver dollar
Ain’t nothing but soft I Scream jingle heard,
making us wanna wipe our hands off around your collar
A gallon of Vanilla bean utterances
all packed down in a pint-sized box
		Truth freezer ain’t working though ... 
just more soft sugar cone lies given to the poor
Saying you don’t have to feed the muzzled ox
Though laboring all day,
we shouldn’t be given minimum wage pay
Melted ice cream promises
	dripping down on our hand,
giving everyone sticky fingers
But please understand,
	we ain’t the ones doing the stealing
Stolen dreams, stolen hope — 
Two more scoops of soft black walnut can’t-cope
		It’s hotter than July
in the middle of June
Melted ice cream promises
dripping   ...   dripping   ...   dripping
from your silver spoon
Give me two more scoops of my favorite I Scream
Melted ice cream of broken promise dreams,
giving us Rocky Road nightmares
But you still swear
you really do care
You still profess,
		you silver-tongued devil,
	how generous you are,
as we keep getting less
Form: Rhyme

A Swamp Tale

A SWAMP TALE

The  big cat chased the little brown rat,
the  brown rat chased a wingless bat
all fell into  the swamp split splat
now what on earth do you think of that?

They landed right next to a frog
sitting still on a fallen log,
just  chilling in the mist and fog
floating in the muddy bog.

The frog said, “I just can’t explain
this happens time and time again!
are all you animals insane,
from playing here you should refrain. 

I just don’t know where to begin,
you run down here and I can’t win,
someone’s always falling in,
this stress is not good for my skin.”

The rat could swim so he was set,
the cat was scared when he got wet,
the bat was screeching for a net 
the frog then croaked, “don’t panic yet.

 “I can get you both safely to shore,
 I’ve done this several times before,
this seems to happen more and more,
it’s carelessness you can’t ignore.”

‘This swamp is not the place to play
hold on, my friends are on the way.”
They formed a bridge, head to foot they lay,
it really was a fine display.
 

The frog said, “Be careful, take it slow,
in an unfamiliar place you go,
dangerous things might lurk and so
don’t run in  places you don’t know.”

The cat, rat and bat confessed,
of the frogs they were impressed,
and each of them had to profess
staying far from the swamp was best
.
So if you play in a place that you don’t know
Make sure you watch where your feet go!
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Roses - Dove's Cooing

~Roses~ 
(Dove's Cooing) 


Red roses 
a tribute 
to loved one 
roses have 
very long 
history 
legend says 
that Eve gave 

a kiss to 
a white rose 
in Garden 
of Eden 
Cupid bled 
on roses 
cause lost love 
instead then 

Another says 
Cleo strew 
room with red 
roses to 
seduce Mark 
Anthony 
with perfume 
and her woes 

the wealthy 
Romans lay 
on beds of 
roses too 
these are a 
few of the 
legends I 
share with you 

Roses are 
beautiful 
a nice way 
to express 
affection 
for someone 
you care and 
love profess 

so give them 
roses and 
will make them 
smile if sad 
roses are 
magical 
make eyes glow 
and hearts glad. 



Dorian Petersen Potter 
aka ladydp2000 
copyrigth@2012 

 

January.29.2015


'Dove's Cooing' is a poetry style created by Patricia Simpson.
Form: Verse

Premium Member In Good Conscience

IN GOOD CONSCIENCE


Heavily tread, are those small fractious steps
On the stairs to my own peace of mind
The sound of transgressions that I'd rather forget
is the pounding of a most clamorous kind

The dialogue I'm having, within my own self
drums on the door of the closed minded truth
I try to rewrite scripts,  shoving back on the shelf
But the turbulence shakes them loose

No matter, how buried, how deep I will hide them
My conscience can shovel them out
That child inside me, denies what was done then
But can't deafen the voices that shout

I profess to regret many sins I've committed
The most difficult task is one of admitting



__________________________________
Revised 4/6/13__
__________________________________
(Original Poem....Diminished Hexaverse)

MY CONSCIENCE


heavy on the stairs
the sound of my thoughts-
my own voice resounds
and pounds on my door
of solitary

the dialogue 
within myself
never perjured 
is translucent

I profess
to launder
past regrets


if stains
can be 

cleansed

_____________
2/14/11


___________________________________________________________
Both poems submitted for Roy Jerden's Contest: "Makeover"
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member A Mask and Cloak

Who actually put you in charge
Of telling others what they should do
In your passive aggressive manner
When others don’t share your view

It’s all light hearted fun you profess
Though that is not the case
It’s about you feeling superior 
Putting others in their place

You speak about anti bullying
Which is really quite the joke
As you yourself are a bully
Behind a mask and cloak

You have your band of merry men
Who are of the same mentality 
Who come out from the wood work
To form your gang of bullies

You are a wolf in sheeps clothing
If I see it ….I’m sure others do
Just mind your own business
 “That is my point of view”!!
© Deb M   Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member R O S E S - the Dove's Cooing Style

~Roses~
(Dove's Cooing)


Red roses 
a tribute 
to loved one 
roses have 
very long 
history 
legend says 
that Eve gave 

a kiss to 
a white rose 
in Garden 
of Eden 
Cupid bled
on roses 
cause lost love 
instead then 

Another says 
Cleo strew 
room with red 
roses to 
seduce Mark 
Anthony 
with perfume 
and her woes 

the wealthy 
Romans lay 
on beds of 
roses too 
these are a 
few of the 
legends I 
share with you 

Roses are 
beautiful 
a nice way 
to express 
affection 
for someone 
you care and 
love profess 

so give them 
roses and 
will make them 
smile if sad 
roses are 
magical 
make eyes glow 
and hearts glad. 



Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyrigth@2012


April.02.2017



“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” 
- Mark Twain 


~Author's  Notes:

The "Dove's Cooing" is a poetry form or style created by Patricia Ann Farnsworth - Simpson.

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