Calling Poems - Poems about Calling

She appears like a quiet flow of gentle timeless and pure glowing show from a waterfall of sustenance. Smooth skin, angelic sweet of a gift touching my demonic diary memoirs, frozen in time as the pages flicker and re-writes like a newly pressed hand. Her eyes a purity of splashes of green illustrated mesmerizes me with a gaze loving silk sown teasing dress, fiery red silky worship of...

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There was a time When my faith was unshakeable The Lord proved That I was remakeable His love for me Was simply not mistakeable The Holy Spirit’s strength Was totally unbreakable For forsaking me He was incapable His call on my life Was just so inescapable But I went rogue And became insatiable I thought His love Would just be replaceable In the world I could hide And then become untraceable Write my...

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Is something calling again From the distant hills outbound? Is it a small voice within Or something hidden without? What awaits you down the road Once you cross the valley bridge? Should you find it and take hold Will it satiate a wish? Will you bring just a trace home ...

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Decidedly, no longer a teenager Even older than the president, I'd wager Curmudgeonly, "that's not music", he mumbles Reliably, "prices are too high", he grumbles Each year, his age is closer to infinity Perhaps that's how many times he wakes up to pee I guess the time has come, I must  accep' it -  To tell you the truth, it's me who's decrepit   ...

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"As the day ends, one is closer to heaven." By Poet My neighbor is old, she can be very bold. Loving to wear lots of fancy gold, and decrepit I am told. You know age is just a thing, numbers one wants to ring. How old are you, that number may make you blue. They tell me I am a decrepit ninety-two, but I can...

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Montreal is my favourite city ~ a mix of old and new. I love its architecture which graces it with style and unique character. It's got more than its share of cathedrals, pubs and restaurants. It boasts a vibrant mingling of local and exotic culture. Well known to be the hub of exquisite cuisine and fine dining. Montreal gathers artists...

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Inspired by Mati, a Stubborn, Beautiful, Black Angora When Mom sat me on the ground, oh, meow, what fun I found. Loved the out, but now I need in more, so I call and rub our door. Where's our stuff they carried out, I still smell familiars about? They just don't hear me yet, I'm sure there's no reason...

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If its your calling Soon one day it will happen Accept, act on it....

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A soft breeze whispered as I stood near a spread of fields where my heartfelt story was told. I recalled the beginning. The middle was unfolding and I didn’t know the end. My assignment of controlling traffic here would last two weeks yet a voice inside said this was where I was meant to be. O, the sky was so blue. A construction crew inched along the highway to...

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Q Why does Bob Barber want us to stop calling it,"the pre-tribulation rapture?" A "Because of the mid-tribulations, who believe the rapture won't happen until the mid-point of the tribulation, after three and a half years are starting to agree with us." Q What does...

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Focusing on my self; no other filtered out all negative feelings cut ties with deceptive dealings home is calling so don't bother Feeling things that make no sense a little of revenge, guilt, anger, fuss a lot of love, faith, truth, and trust Thinking of things conjuring defense Eliminate thoughts of all others took for granted with misjudgment challenging my truth with argument now stuck in...

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We often reach the future by sailing in the past Our course in life a distant breeze — that steps tomorrows mast (Dreamsleep: April, 2025) ...

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Foundation. Have you ever met someone where everything just clicked but then, for whatever tragic reason? They just disappeared? The Calling (A lone male, clutching an old photograph at midnight. Whispers, as a single white prayer candle burns) Let me in I whisper into this rising grey smoke Let its wispy tendrils carry up my plea's to wherever you are No...

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No matter how you look at it…in this picture we’re trying to paint… our world…our canvas will always be filled with devils and with saints. What makes this difficult…as we take out our brushes and sit down to paint… Is that we are humans meaning we can be both…a devil and a saint. The news is filled with stories...

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On a cozy night Very late midnight I heard a voice Calling A voice in my head As it slowly whispered. Wake up Get up It's time to act Taking action Towards your Aspirations. Wanted to fall asleep again But couldn't The voices keep screaming aloud Time waits for none Wake up, get up and take actions My spirit keeps...

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