Long Fortitude Poems
Long Fortitude Poems. Below are the most popular long Fortitude by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Fortitude poems by poem length and keyword.
to walk in faith, not fear
I've come to understand
I must develop the daunting Spirit
like that of the Son of Man
to walk in faith, not fear
Is God's intent for me
He gave me love, power, a sound mind
not a spirit of timidity
I desire to walk with the fortitude
of the Holy Ghost
with an attitude of self-assurance
which I need the most
to walk in faith, not fear
Is God's intent for me
He gave me love, power, a sound mind
not a spirit of timidity
the Holy Spirit doesn't operate
In a state of depravity
It calls God's children to move, to groove
with spiritual bravery
Intrepid, level-headed
exercising a boldness of faith
not in fear, not scared
forging a god-driven gait
to walk in faith, not fear
Is God's intent for me
I now have love, power and a sound mind
Instilled in me
Now basking in God's perfect love
with a persistent faith unheard of
to walk in faith, not fear
Is God's sole intent for me
I now have love, power and a sound mind
which He instilled in me
to walk in faith not fear
December 24 Scripture Meditations Based on Revelation 9-10
Key Verse – Revelation 10:7 … The mystery of God should be finished, as he hath declared to his servants the prophets.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR DECLARING TO ME YOUR WORD
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of wisdom
For my faith’s biblical freedom
While I overcome foolishness’ boredom
In learning about Your righteous kingdom.
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of grace
For my soul’s grateful praise
While I triumph over worldliness’ race
In abiding in Your victorious embrace.
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of mercy
For my prayerfulness’ ardent fervency
While I fight complacency’s leniency
In seeking Your abundant clemency.
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of hope
For my heart’s cheerful scope
While I avoid frustration’s rope
In resting inside Your peaceful slope.
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of certainty
For my commitment’s strong integrity
While I assert salvation’s security
In proclaiming Your sovereign authority.
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of fortitude
For my personality’s virtuous attitude
While I show worshipful gratitude
In reflecting Your glorious beatitude.
Thank You for declaring to me Your Word of miracles
For my vision’s heavenly spectacles
While I view celestial pinnacles
In living according to Your Scriptural oracles.
December 24, 2022
Cobwebs cling to memories, whisper in the gloom,
Once vibrant threads of knowledge, shrouded in a tomb.
Skills like dusty treasures, hidden from the light,
Yearning for a touch, a chance to take flight.
A sculptor's hand, with practiced, steady grace,
Carved dreams in marble, a masterpiece in place.
Lines flowed with precision, a language understood,
Each chip is a testament to passion's fortitude.
Now, brittle fingers tremble, the chisel feels so strange,
Muscles long unused, a memory's fading range.
Regret, a serpent's hiss in the attic's hold,
"What ifs" that echo, stories yet untold.
Across the hall, a dancer's form takes flight,
A whirlwind of delight, a radiant, joyous sight.
Years etched in grace, a sculptor of her own,
Each movement speaks of dedication sown.
Heed the whispers, darling, before the embers fade,
Rekindle passion's flame, the skills you once displayed.
The mind, a fertile ground, thrives with constant care,
And dormant talents blossom when you dare.
Let not the attic's silence claim the vibrant you,
Embrace the journey's call, the lessons ever new.
For the human spirit soars on wings of practiced might,
And every challenge faced, a beacon burning bright.
We are happy to have a good mother,
she's the only one who has taught us
to take a path where stumbling stones are many
and they'll make us wiser learning about life.
We are lucky to have a good mother
who watches the spectacle of stars above
and explains with simple words who created them,
and if her tears fall on our cheeks: it's simply faith.
We are grateful to have a good mother
who has paved the way for us for a smooth walk,
unless we disregard her advice and fall from grace
as angels did losing God's favor and forgiveness.
We are delighted to have a good mother
and if disobedience make us go astray,
she will explain to us the cost we will pay;
and without hesitance, she welcomes us back.
We are honored to have a good mother
who has nurtured our minds and hearts since birth;
I've seen an orphans' misery seeking a motherly embrace,
that embrace that was denied from the time he was born.
We are privileged to have a good mother
who ingrains in us values of respect and compassion;
and furthermore, her strength will make us soldiers of faith...
showing the courage and fortitude that'll make us grow.
We are able to smile because we have a good mother,
and in these smiles, we see her lovely and tender image:
it's that shining sun reflecting its image in the clearest waters,
it's that resplendent moon mirroring itself upon gleaming waves.
We are fortunate to have a good mother,
because she's that lighthouse flooding us with light and guiding us
when our ship battles the unexpected storm that wants to avoid a wreck;
we'll feel safe as her protective and tight arms form an impenetrable shield.
We are overjoyed to have a good mother
who has stood by us and sheltered us from dangers...
ready to give up her life for us and fulfill our given fate
that'll take us to the unknown, to those horizons with rainbows.
We are thrilled to have a good mother,
whoever asks what her mission in life is hasn't understood the enormity
of a mother's dedication in whose veins pumps the blood of immense love;
never allow youth to steal your innocence protected by her endurance,
never allow time to speed up and miss the joys that may become regrets,
never refuse to listen or heed the words spoken with an infallible prediction.
He came from the Dust Bowl in a terrible time
When his family were stricken with broken, dirt covered dreams.
The patchwork wooden shack they slept and ate in had all but tumbled
To a fate no one could repair or even had the desire to.
No crops, no means to grow anything to eat
In this sterile, fruitless, barren land they called home-
A time when the only thing farmers could harvest was your dreams.
There was very little left in his world except suffering.
He was a good boy like his name, and a small boy, not born that way,
But fashioned by his lack of sustenance.
His life was laden with monumental emptiness and boredom
Enduringly waiting for better things to come.
He would make his own toys to play with
Out of anything that was some sort of surplus in his world of poverty.
And when he had nothing more except himself,
His idleness was spent by creating a circle dance-
A spiral game, to turn his spirit into a liberation to his salvation.
Singing a song he would bring his feet together to shuffle side by side
While creating his whirling motion like an old "spinning top" he used to have.
Round and round he would turn until he could turn no more
To finally stop as if some invisible force straight up and grabbed him.
His world spun around him, magically becoming a carousel
Where he heard music, laughter and felt giddy happiness
As he rode on the great white horse of his choice
Traveling with this bright and joyous carnival fancy
Taking him to a place where hardship lost its meaning.
He would perform his dance time after time
No one ever really cared about it,
After all what was a young restless boy to do?
They never called him by his real name - Johnny Goodfellow
They always called him "Dizzy"
A name that would stick with him his entire long-lived life,
And follow him on a distant road of misadventure
Hard work, uninviting places, and downright unfriendly folks.......
But it didn't matter - he had learned early how to make his world alright
September 2, 2019
"Bring a Character to Life" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Richard Lamoureux
Watch in action exuberance of life
As a toddler starts, stops, and falls,
Slowly but surely learning to walk
Questing ahead in poise of pizzazz
Powered by strength of inner voice
Taking first steps of will to survive,
Oblivious to clutch of circumstance
Sending some kids to refugee camps
Or seeking asylum, walking for miles,
Hope for them is a place to sleep,
Bread to eat, and freedom to live
Cognizant of borrowed air they breathe;
Some will make it, some will die
Some will shine in open blue skies
Flexing tenacity of wings they’ll fly
Like a tiny chick’s daring first flight,
They will rise from burned-out debris
Ascending like forest of new saplings
Sprouting through the remains of ashes.
When tears of fear grip their lives
Some do fold, yet some stay strong
As life-storms destroy their only path;
Those of fortitude build new bridges
Giving comfort to needy and weak
Taking them safely to the other side.
When spirits cower, afraid of strife
Some resiliently keep dreams alive
Though they know their life’s afire
Trusting new day meeting dark night
Will always glow in ebullient sunrise.
Some succumb to inequities of fate
When despair mounts a colossal fight
Some persevere with innermost strength
Traversing miles of whatever it takes
Finding promise in flowers and streams
Shedding distress, empowering dreams
Invoking goodwill, believing its call:
Upon every roof some rain must fall.
October 14, 2020
Poem of the day on October 16, 2020
Placed 2nd: Will to survive poetry contest
Sponsor: Silent One
Almighty Eternal God
I had a lump on my neck for a couple of years
Seen a doctor and told me it can be a cancer if I don’t remove it
I’m pregnant and the problem is I cannot have surgery while pregnant
The father of my baby left me because of my decision to have an abortion
The neck surgery was immediately scheduled
I was diagnosed with medullary thyroid cancer
that had already spread to surrounding lymph nodes
I had more surgery and radioactive iodine treatments that year
Until there was finally no trace of the disease
Without the choice to have an abortion
I may not have survived
You told the curly Blonde baby angel
“Tell the priest that the babies are safe in Heaven
You want to give us women chance ]on the left ear] choice [on the right ear] to save ourselves
Abortion is incredibly a hard decision
The decision I have not regretted a day in my life
I greatly thank You for Your forgiveness
For having wide wisdom in my state of life
Please continue giving me a strongest faith
Fortitude to have strength and be courageous
Perseverance in taking care the rest of my life in Fr. Christ name. Amen.
06102020
Exposed to life’s enigma
midst fulfillment-search ennui
propelling courageous vigilant choice
between the ephemeral vis-à-vis the eternal
along reality continuum, challenging perceptions
upheld by differing perspectives as well as varied philosophies…
I’m grateful to the Sovereign Creator for settling me in His will divine.
Now, my spirit asserts that I do possess living faith in the Almighty God
Who quickened me, bestowing His compassionate redemptive grace
reaching down to offer me everlasting opulence through His truth
enabling vibrant relationship of partnership with Him
toward the experience of His miraculous wonders
mysterious deliverance, merciful providence
mighty dealings, magnificent fellowship.
Likewise, my soul does rejoice that I have a name written down in heaven
not thru my good works, but thru Jesus Christ’s imparted righteousness
nor because of worthy stature, but because of the Saviour’s pardon
never by religious inclination, but by the Lord’s clemency
freeing me from sin-wages’ wrathful condemnation
when I trusted HIM, and eventually sealed
assured with the Holy Ghost.
Re-created, my heart beats for my Master
converted, my mind seeks Scriptures’ direction
called to serve in His ministry, advancing His kingdom
exalting His name along faithful stewardship of blissful worship
via prayerful fortitude, battling temptations provoking selfishness
while teaching, discipling, sharing the Gospel, involving in life-building
thanking the Lord for all opportunities to abound in His work*, indeed blessed.
*1Corinthians 15:58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.
November 16, 2020
2nd place, "It's a part of me - Life and the perceptions and philosophies you hold" Poetry Contest; Sponsored by Silent One; judged on 11/17/2020.
Does your back end waddle like a duck?
Does your rear sway from side to side?
Is there a rumbling sound when sitting down
With large ripples in your hide?
Perhaps it's that second piece of apple pie
Or that box of chocolates you consumed
I've seen you down an extra large pizza
It's a while before your breathing resumes
There is a cure for this age old problem
It's called pushing away from the table
But it sure takes a lot of intestinal fortitude
For some of us we're just not able!
Do you ever get totally discouraged
And think you're losing your mind
You're definitely in the majority today
The country's sliding in the brine!
There's still hope for all us tubby people
But we really must try to persevere
Forego that second large piece of apple pie
And a trimmer you will appear!
The Sparrow
by Positive Mark
Torch-burnt quills never offer apology.
Scorched earth policies revive a dead polity.
Force fed intellects give rise to economy.
Those who don’t fit, I advise you to follow me.
First, let’s pay homage to walls that were climbed.
Put in the time, and you’ll shine like Coach Prime.
Kill or be killed at the devil’s insistence.
If you lack fortitude, strike from a distance.
Fiery orators once fit the bill.
Now, they’re a hallowed list of confirmed kills.
Dead at the podium.
Dead on the balcony.
Genocide rhymes have become the new alchemy.
Armies of men show their butt on the street.
Reeks of an old auction, selling Black meat.
Honest comedians cancelled for jokes.
This is the new definition of woke.
Now higher frequency thought has been shattered.
Shirts weren’t printed when Black lives still mattered.
No reparations for cultural rape.
Modern day poets ain’t bustin’ a grape.
Torches on quills that were once burning arrows.
Who watches you, when his eye’s on the sparrow?