Best Steeples Poems
I love your heathered highlands,
steep cliffs and rugged islands,
hedges and gardens under
rainclouds of grey.
Old steeples rise above
those small rural towns I love;
your hillsides of sunny yellow,
rolled bales of hay.
Pipers will play their part
stirring each Scottish heart
binding together a nation
drenched with pride.
"Scotland the Brave" is ringing,
dancers are highland flinging -
proud Scottish hearts are singing,
joy wells inside.
O, highland games of yore
with racers and tug-of-war,
the cabers are tossed asunder
by mighty men.
I love your farmlands rustic,
mountains and lochs majestic,
as kilts of many tartans
hike through the glen.
Pipers will play their part
stirring each Scottish heart
binding together a nation
drenched with pride.
"Scotland the Brave" is ringing,
dancers are highland flinging -
proud Scottish hearts are singing,
joy wells inside.
Castles with ancient hist'ry,
Celt runes of ancient myst'ry,
we sing an "Auld Lang Syne"
and toast Robbie Burns.
Clans clad in plaid will whistle
fondly of Lion and Thistle,
dressing with tartan kilts
their wee bonnie bairns.
Hands high, your dancers dance -
crossed swords, I'm in a trance,
pipes heard for miles
with that old familiar blare.
St. Andrews' cross - the flag is
don't ask what's in the haggis!
Just eat your shortbread
and be glad you were there.
//These reflect some of my favorite memories from the 6 months I lived in Scotland, in 1990. I miss her dearly and hope I may be able to return some day. These words may be sung to "Scotland the Brave", a beloved anthem of Scottish national pride. You can hear it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KzK2PWVQYX0
The tempo of this recording is much faster than I prefer, but I include it here in case you have never had a chance to hear this wonderful patriotic song. //
Written 24 Mar 2021
Categories:
steeples, patriotic,
Form:
Lyric
In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions
Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance
Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
the deserved rewards
Categories:
steeples, life, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
She lets me put violets in her hair,
good-humouredly, calls me Ophelia
in such a way that I spout, But Shakespeare
pushed war, not love. Resplendent, Thalia
strolls the peaceful paths of Victoria Park,
taken with the interplay of people,
the signs of change, bridges like love at work;
Often, her hands become divine steeples
of calm prayer. Yet there is imminence
heard in fervencies, a tremendous will
wrought with words of truth and tolerance
that dare to preserve all that is spiritual.
Three share our views in comfortable silence,
Me, hope and a Goddess of Non-Violence.
*For Catie
Categories:
steeples, friend, love, places, poetry,
Form:
Sonnet
I made a trip to New York
and surely looked like a dork
staring at the sky
scrapery so high
(and sometimes ogled a nork*)
I took a walk to the dock
heard so many kinds of talk
from seething masses
(and some were asses**)
all I could do was just gawk
I went out to Ellis Island
'cause Woodie*** says it is myland
and it is yours too
it just wouldn’t do —
to exclude folks from the high lands
deserts, swamps or wherever.
I think we should endeavor
(since most of us once,
were just immigrants)
to welcome them forever
or give it to first peoples,
tear down our pious steeples.
Stop saying we care
(if it is hot air)
Stop our slaughter of sheeples!
I tend to ramble a lot.
My trip to the melting pot?
Was a WOW I’d say
and maybe one day
I will return at a trot.
Salute to souper Ilene
(a fan of, I’ve always been)
and to that Billy
who is so silly****
They live in that crazy scene!
~~~~
asteriskus explanus:
*aussie slang word (google it)
**not all were asses — overall I found New Yorkers much less rude than I had expected (based on what I’d been told)
***Guthrie - the folksinger
****According to hisself, souper Sillybilly Thekidster
Categories:
steeples, nonsense,
Form:
Limerick
Among the souls of empty hearts
O distant bells of steeples chime
in echoed hymns of saddened weep
Comes again the midnight hour,
down dampened cobblestone to creep
Along the darkened streets they roam
of alleyways and torches fed.
To reap the fortunes of desire,
black shadows, piercing eyes of red
With fingers crawling guttered dreams,
slicing realms through endless mist
Empty hearts which now they seek
with blade of sharpened steel now kissed
To carve the tears, come wailing fall,
neath worried frowns on window sill
Collecting that which no one knows,
until such bellies have their fill
With carpet bags and tethered rope,
a list on which your name is scrolled
When heard the knocking on your door,
just close your eyes of nightmares told
Soon you’ll wake to find your place
among the souls of empty hearts
Where clouded paths shall be your guide,
this valley as your soul departs
Categories:
steeples, fear, horror,
Form:
Rhyme
again …
here I am -
a glum ghost
a somber shadow
I have come to dream
to pledge duty, your gleam
to venerate your foreday liturgy
ah, and mend the mist - the magical mist
another mercurial morn creature such as we
ever cautiously coy in its dark, shifting purpose
with foggy fingers it creeps shore-ward
tickling the rocks and rills with vexing facility
its dew-dripping appendages grasp the bluff
and cloak it in a brume shawl
sea's briny breath
braided to a blanket
covering all in a supernal spell
as if we haunt some lofty realm
paused between stars and steeples
to dance for the dawn's enchantment
but I am here for longing's sake
to entomb my pallid pining
priceless little maudlin chunks of my life
that I must forever let loose
whimsical moments spent here, made precious by another
a sweet syrup called "her" that drips from my being
and dribbles its way to my visceralities
where now it turns rancid with nostalgia
poisoning my spirit
you ...
with your winking perpetuity
shall be the last witness to my remorse
you - my lonely, reticent, stolid beacon
shall be the final testament
to every tear let in her stead
to every hapless heartache rent for her
to every soul-wrenching dream torn from the night
and to every last hush of her name on the wind
I throw it all down now
to crash on these jagged cliffs with the morning wake
to end where it was first entrusted
with the shutter of your winking eye
and the first misty beams ... of a new day.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Lighthouse" Poetry Contest, Eve Roper, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
steeples, analogy, appreciation, beauty, goodbye,
Form:
Free verse
Un-Ringing the Bells
To live in the shadow of the steeples
the tintinnabulation of Poe’s bells*
tormenting the sinners as they slumber
wrestling the darkened dreams of childhood hells
following the path that led asunder
“the road less traveled”** challenging the norm
a vagabond in tattered memories
wandering through an endless self-made storm.
Awaken - the bells possess no power -
cold hands that call dead clappers to concuss
tremble at the thought the ropes are fraying
fear’s ancient tones now deadened under rust.
Yet their vibration lingers at days start
within the chest still beats their “Telltale Heart”***.
1/3/2017
With acknowledgement to
*The Bells – Edgar Allen Poe
**The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost
***The Telltale Heart – Edgar Allen Poe
submitted to – Sonnet about where you live – Poetry Contest
Categories:
steeples, change, growing up,
Form:
Sonnet
I fear most Church steeples are drowning in sin
And like Country Clubs, cater to folks acting part,
Way too holy for sinner, too blessed to be sick,
Always blaming the victim, God’s grace a lost art.
The rich are the only ones sure of God’s love!
Though it's faux pas, reflection might still do them good.
In the poorest of sinners who wishes you well,
God embraces true saint for he's done all he could!
The rich overconfident, poor in the dumps,
God gets lost in the shuffle of privilege and blame
But the judgment of others is sin for us all,
Being rich can’t buy Halo, the poor own no shame.
If I attend church then because it is grand
Tell me how do I know I’m not worshiping wealth?
God's Word taught to grow riches or enrich the heart?
Does disciple need palace's comforts for health?
Collecting vast wealth just to hoard is a sin!
How’d you come by your talents, if not gift from God?
Do you find the best way or trust God for a plan?
Those who wait on the Lord feel OK being odd!
To find the right church though is simple in fact -
Humble is the right track, “Son of God” the right train!
You were loved long before His creation began,
Only sick people welcome, "God’s Grace" Church refrain.
Long Tooth
May 13, 2017
Categories:
steeples, faith, journey, life,
Form:
Quatrain
Boughs of evergreens grace mantles above fireplaces.
Children await Santa Claus with smiles on their faces.
Beribboned wreaths are hung on many a front door,
but to me the spirit of Christmas means so much more.
The greatest gift was not found beneath a tinseled tree.
It was Jesus Christ, who gave up his life for you and me.
Humbly born, he was laid upon a bed of straw in a stall.
God gifted us His only begotten son to give hope to us all.
A present so very precious, one that we can never repay.
He bestowed on us a Savior, the babe born Christmas Day.
We must always hold dear to how much we are blessed,
as we sing 'Joy to the World' when our love is expressed.
We fill our churches with candles, admiring their glow.
As moonlight shines across white fields of fallen snow,
we pray, giving thanks to God, remembering to be meek,
for it's our Father's divine favor that we reverently seek.
Christmas is a time for Christians to celebrate and rejoice,
praising the Lord in lyrical hymns raised in adoring voice.
With myriads of Angels in chorus, let us worship and sing,
"All glory to God," as the bells from church steeples ring.
The true Christmas spirit is not gifts with huge price tags
or new toys for children that fill too many shopping bags.
It should proclaim "peace on earth, good will toward men."
So, to this end we pray to God in the name of Jesus, Amen.
Categories:
steeples, beautiful, christmas, poems,
Form:
Rhyme
Where steeples reach to touch the sky
and faithful bow their heads in prayer,
a wondrous sound fills wintry air
as choirs sing “Angels on High”.
Exalted words take wing and fly;
good tidings are for all to share
where steeples reach to touch the sky
and faithful bow their heads in prayer.
The morning of His birth is nigh;
each celebrates a Love so rare –
one precious Gift beyond compare!
His presence cannot be denied
where steeples reach to touch the sky.
~~+~~
1/10/09
Writing Challenge- December, 2019 - I Want Christmas Poems
Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wiishkobi Ode
*Rondel - a variation of Rondeau
Categories:
steeples, blessing, celebration, christmas, faith,
Form:
Rondeau
~ Night's snowflakes fall lightly ~
Night's snowflakes fall lightly
without a sound
Melt on my walkway
No one's around
No one awed by their beauty
None thrilled by their tingle --
Fresh ice on eager tongues
or newly white shingles
on sleepy houses with chimneys
curling smoke from logs' fires...
Crosses glisten high atop steeples
Winter's deep silence inspires
Categories:
steeples, inspiration, silence, sleep, snow,
Form:
Rhyme
In the heat and rain , upon tracks rusted and bare
A little red trolley sits, remembering former days
Of horse drawn carriages, filled with new marriages
Of clanging bells and merry people,
Doing chores,or walking into stores
Rolling hills and long tall steeples
Weathered stones in grass covered cemeteries
Busy times filled with haunted memories
Rising from the haze of long forgotten days
Categories:
steeples, memorial,
Form:
Rhyme
Jesus Is The Answer
when your down to the lowest pit
Nobody around and they don't give a ****
all of life seems fragile being tossed as salad
when you run into a brick wall
Still there is hope never falter
Jesus Christ died almost 2, 000 years ago
on a cross for all the world to see
what was his prayer what was his final plea
Father forgive them for they no not what they do
he said the prayer now the rest is up to you
there are long lines being drawn in the sand
when will we as a society ever understand
he's not about steeples or a salesman giving you something to hear,
no his love was such that he suffered so much just to call some of us to follow...
Our flesh wants to serve sin, self & Satan
one drop of blood fell from his scale
he was always there every time we failed
it's not about being perfect but it's believing in a perfect savior
Jesus is the answer
eyes, hand & heart
Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand
hopefully someday all will understand...
Categories:
steeples, addiction, america, animal, anxiety,
Form:
Free verse
The steeples tower over our flags
Dissent is not allowed here
How dare you not say the pledge!
Shots ring out in the crowded halls
Our children fall; victims of the sickness
We awaken from fractured dreams of something resembling freedom
Our electronic opinions hang like public laundry on a line
Eyeless sheep file out of the pews and into the voting booths
And the gods recklessly direct baseless wars against ourselves
Categories:
steeples, religion, war,
Form:
Free verse
Fire starter using flame
To burn kill destroy lame
What is your end game
To make money to gain
California she suffers so
Set ablaze her forests glow
People steeples burning red
Hard to watch tears are shed
What is the reason or cause
Arson or accident or natures fault
Too many questions strange to see
Insurance cancelled those policies
God help California prevail
As we watch these fires from hell
May the truth be a breeze with sail
Blowing in peace where water fails
Categories:
steeples, america, anger, angst, anti
Form:
Rhyme