Long Graces Poems
Long Graces Poems. Below are the most popular long Graces by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Graces poems by poem length and keyword.
A cold morning and smiley faces,
Enjoying all as Christmas graces.
The heat of the wintry star,
God is in but he is too far.
Tendering heat on the eyes,
As the great star arises.
Love is reborn on the earth,
That's we call Christmas after Jesus birth.
A cold morning and smiley faces,
Enjoying all as Christmas graces.
The heat of the wintry star,
God is in but he is too far.
Angels around us in a snow flakes,
All the gust she takes.
Once it would be alike Christmas tree,
When happiness would native in thee.
A cold morning and smiley faces,
Enjoying all as Christmas graces.
The heat of the wintry star,
God is in but he is too far.
Lust of the Christmas day,
Where everyone is like heavenly fay.
Love is reborn on the earth,
That's we call Christmas after Jesus birth.
A cold morning and smiley faces,
Enjoying all as Christmas graces.
The heat of the wintry star,
God is in me and not too far!
I’ve been empowered to inform you that never again
Will I allow you to light the flame of rage or ridicule within
The walls of my very being.
Never more will you pierce the core
Of who I am and anything I’m seeing.
You are hereby vaporized before my eyes
Into the nothingness of forgetfulness
Which is less than having ever
Lived and breathed at all.
You are smaller than the memory of
Earth’s first turning like a blue-green ball.
Leave me now, you of such baseless insignificance
And return to the pitiful depths
Of your own self-centered, concentric view of who
You think you are and have always chosen to be:
A god among men, legend above legends
Living far beyond the realm of reality.
I see you now for what you really are…smoke
Rising into the night sky
Disappearing toward the stars…
Whose molecules and atoms are so minutely scattered
That collecting them would take infinite light years
To discover how little you mattered.
My only prayer for you is pity
Which is all I have left to give.
Farewell, your myth having been dispelled to the gates of hell
(If such a place exists for those few,)
Whose life was wasted on ignoring, degrading and attempting to destroy
The unquenchable and indistinguishable
Beauty, love and unbounded good graces of humanity,
Like you.
The chirping of the first bird to which I listen
And the first ray of the sun that glistens
Are not the beginnings, yet, continuations?
Of his caring hand, carrying on its liberation
Like untimely drizzling and winged termites
Surprises set in with inexplicable delights.
Each petal that unfurls from fresh flowers
Rays that spread out like rainbow showers
Movements of the mind and heart with feelings
Timely movement of the sun above the ceilings
Birds and beasts have good and bad times.
Hearts chant songs of the almighty in chimes.
Each act he begins, like ripples on water, spreads
With the emerging moon, his graces flow ahead.
Each moment is an era of mercy in his hands.
They're countless, like gold-dust-like desert sands.
With our present world encapsulated
In a shell of abject tragedy, it’s becoming
Painfully difficult to pen pleasurable words
Of the beautiful glow of the graces of nature
As that of humankind blooms dark graveness:-
Today, declining humor, splendor, and praising,
Are at their lowest ebb on the shores of time as
Pandora’s Box continues to overflow pandemonium
Leaving us floating in waters of war meandering with
Spewed murdered blood of innocent human life…flowing.
Once again, a devilish power-mongering oppressor
Audaciously justifies mass murdering of women, men,
And their innocent children; mendaciously taking pride
In physical and mental collateral damages excreted by war
In the droppings of cesspool bombings from the butt of hell:-
Yet, despite the present-day earthly living hell
We now find ourselves blistering in, let us not melt
Into apathetic despair and hopelessness; but faithfully
Believe the truth-laden resounding echoing of these words:
“…Whatsoever man soweth, so shall he reap.”
Indeed, let us forever be mindful that in our sojourn here,
“Every event…[challenge]…is a…[revealing lesson]…from God.”
And that each of these events comes with an allegorical message
Which when perceived and understood, we’re again blessed
And become enlightened with divine wisdom and guidance.
May the divine wisdom and guidance reveal unto us,
The foot-printed pathway for us---with no more cheeks
To turn but yet---seek not to become Satan’s little devils;
For the nature and keloid scares of our oppression, reveals
Today, the Devil and his own, indeed “…know what they do.”
April has been called the cruelest month,
and that may well be so.
But sadder by far is October--
ask any tree, for they all know.
October glides in wearing many jewels
bathing dying gardens in warm glows.
Their gold and ruby and amber hues
perform the quintessential Autumn show.
But then, as if one, leaves begin to fall
like tears on an old oak's face.
The red and gold they flaunted so
become Winter's rental space.
Barren branches stretch their limbs
in supplication to the skies.
They ask, if possible, for bluest skies
and snowy lace to wear as a disguise.
Before long, the garden's colorful riot
has faded to browns and greys.
Bushes huddle together knowing
Winter will soon have its shivering ways.
So like ourselves, when our once bushy heads
become sprinkled with Winter white
We exclaim, who's the person looking at us
in the mirror? Must have crept in overnight!
Our arms, once strong and tanned by the sun,
voices rich with our songs not all sung.
The beauty we once thought rightfully ours'
now graces only the young.
Sometimes change doesn't appear good,
the trees would understand.
We miss the long walks with confident strides;
trees wish for greenery on demand.
We've weathered seasons, along with the trees,
but days now go too fast.
Soon, we too will hear Winter's song,
and we'll cry, Summer, why couldn't you last?
In April’s month, the world comes alive,
With blooms bursting forth, as nature’s heart strives.
The daffodils dance in the soft springtime breeze,
While cherry blossoms whisper through blossoming trees.
The rain often falls, a gentle reminder,
That growth needs some struggle, like a flame needs a finder.
For laughter and joy, there’s Easter’s sweet cheer,
And the promise of warmth as summer draws near.
But sometimes the clouds can obscure the bright sun,
And dreams feel elusive, as the days come undone.
Yet April, dear April, you hold so much grace,
With the spirit of springtime, you brighten the space.
You remind us of balance, of light and of dark,
Of the beauty in chaos, of life’s vibrant spark.
April arrives, complexity is grand,
A month of renewal, where nature takes stand.
From Latin "aperire," it opens the door,
To blossoms and buds, a vibrant encore.
In history's weave, Veneralia shines,
Honoring Venus, where love intertwines.
With beauty and fertility, she graces the land,
As springtime awakens, with a gentle hand.
Aries ignites, the first sign in the sky,
With courage and spirit, they boldly fly high.
Natural leaders with hearts full of fire,
Embracing adventures, their passions inspire.
Yet shadows may linger, as weather can shift,
A reminder of life’s unpredictable gift.
In this dance of light, through joy and through strife,
April teaches growth, the essence of life.
In the balance of chaos, we find our own way,
In April’s sweet arms, let our spirits play.
So here’s to your essence, and the way you sway,
A month filled with promise, come what may.
With each drop of rain, a new chance to grow,
In April’s sweet arms, let our spirits overflow.
627.
Novena Prayer to St. Benedict
Oh St. Benedict who is glorious
Grand Model of All Virtues
Bringer of Grace from the Almighty
I humbly kneel before thee
Protect me from all dangers & foes
Let me have the blessings God endows
And avoid whatever God forbids
Grant me the favors & graces I need from God
For the troubles in life that I had
As your kind heart directs to those being inflicted
You do not abandon those whom to you devoted
That is why I ask you to intercede for me
This petition (name of petition) I present to the Almighty
If it is for His glory & my spiritual relief
Oh St. Benedict who is great
Help me to maintain my faith
Live as a faithful child of God
Die as a faithful child of God
Let His will that is holy
Be done unto & through me
That I will be forever happy in his heavenly kingdom.
Amen.
-12/27/2018
(Dumarao)
*My Poetic Prayers to Saints Trilogy 2018
(written this day when I bought the “Jubilee Medal of St. Benedict”)
No eyes could see dominions of rainbows filling the skies.
Stars flew, floated, and fluttered around in a stunned surprise.
Did anyone see the skies blossom and a child appear?
He rested between Joseph and Mary with charm and cheer.
On rough racks, they dwelt, as there was no place in human hearts.
Cows, bulls, and sheep stood as though forgetting how breathing starts.
Mystic music concerts were heard like thunder and earthquakes.
The Almighty's graces seemed to surround them like ice flakes.
Those who were sleeping dreamed about the birth of a saviour.
They missed God's favour like a beggar missing a treasure.
Though they felt a thud, did they not feel the need to wake up?
Each smiling face of the shepherds bloomed like a buttercup.
Did the manger ease you more than a deluxe princely bed?
Did you freely breathe the breeze of the meek in a cowshed?
Labouring like ants and bees, humans of goodwill gather
Being sloth-filled like sloths, does one have the right to scatter?
With nobleness, each being should acknowledge the other
If one fails to hail the other, will the other bother?
Those who help others in the accomplishment of mission
Those who join their neighbours in their battle against Satan
Such as these would follow you, carrying daily crosses.
Sharing each of your gains, they would also share your losses.
Humans, in their conspiracy to mar others, blasphemed
Forgiving these, towards them, your forgiveness unfastened
As scorpions and snakes venom those who try to save them
Their abhorrence towards those who saved them was at its helm.
Why should one oppose the truth and chock another's graces?
To be saved, should one roam holy places after places?
What a lovely, lovely boy he was,
And such pretty manners-oh!
And a charming boy he was because-
He knew what to say, where to go.
Such a fine man he became, became;
And such courtly airs and flair!
As scents crowd summer, none the same,
And leave a memory everywhere.
A gallant man, so smart and all!
And honest and seemly strong.
His portrait graces palace wall;
And the days of glory are long.
Such a noble, nobleman was he,
All subtle in face and grace;
A finer man could never be,
He had admirers in every place.
As fresh a breath of air he was,
As in nature's own vast room.
And so much loved he was because
He somehow cast off all gloom.
Such a fiery knight and true!
And what a passion he gave, he gave.
Turned pale skies so to blue,
And he never, never knew a knave.