Best Protestants Poems

Catholics and Protestants unite 
it's time to join the fight 
as we march on toward that light !
It's our job to question the mob ,
as...

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.The first gift of Christmas was love

It was bestowed from above

It was given to all

to both rich and  poor

to those who are strong

or who...

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The world is one big Pallette
full of mixed colours
mixed races,mixed cultures.
The world is full of different ideas
full of The Humble and The Intelligent, 
How Beautiful...

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At the joyful sunrise service on Easter morn
On the sands of Daytona Beach no lines are drawn
Worshipers from each Christian denomination
Gather in unison as one...

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A GUNPOWDER PLOT

The 5th of November is a day to remember,
Children get excited from September, 
The sound of fireworks reverberate,
And bonfires with effigies of a...

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BELIEF IS YOUR OWN CHOICE 

And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested from all his work...

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Argyle socks, kilts,
Scottish tartan scarves
and Knox — aye
Mary, Queen Mary
shall you marry Darnly
for love? Nay...

Torches, kilts and song.
Heather in hands, waving
but Knox knocks their merry
socks...

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sip your coffee and smoke cigar
you the ass holy and mob boss 
catholic faith noth
protestants’ hybrid
St. John the Baptist spurious...

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skinny island rump
  highway seas churning the horizon under turbulent skies
  entity England
  migration waves still grounding along the continental shelf
 ...

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True noises from outside 
deep in the night of winter,
snow geese cadence call too
shake some sense of me.
Summon me to remember who I am, 
Bid...

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The familiar sound of gunshots 
rings out in the dead of night,
As a sniper takes position in the 
bushes out of sight,
Past my front door...

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The 
familiar 
sound 
of 
gunshots 
rings 
out 
in 
the 
dead 
of 
night,as 
a 
sniper 
takes 
position 
in 
the 
bushes 
outta 
sight,
Past 
my 
front 
door 
I...

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In a short time, you will be my executioner.
Your actions shall be considered a favor.
You say to me “Lady, please forgive me”.
I, Mary Stuart, am...

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The familiar sound of gunshots rings out in the dead of night,as a sniper takes position in the bushes out of sight,
Past my front door...

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My ears hath heard the sweet music Of a New Orleans jug band, 
Whose sound can only compete with that of a sonorous slave spiritual
I...

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