Long Jubilant Poems
Long Jubilant Poems. Below are the most popular long Jubilant by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Jubilant poems by poem length and keyword.
“Just living is not enough... one must have sunshine, freedom,
and a little flower”.
– Hans Christian Andersen
A little flower in the garden
not very large, or tall, or bright.
For this, she seeks pardon.
God graces her with His light.
His sun shining in the skies
attracts the little flower’s head
and soon her face and eyes
behold the sunshine’s thread.
It fills her with a freedom
like she’s never known before.
She awakens simply to need Him
and He, she comes to adore.
Her little face fills with happiness
shining prettily pink and red.
He colors her with tenderness;
she stands proudly without dread.
Life is living and loving all things
without need to feel outside.
Accepting the gifts He brings
makes living a jubilant joyride.
Rejoicing amidst triumphant delight
My heart joins you toward gratefulness’ height
For your altar date of partnership might
With your fervently prayed-for Mr. Right.
I ask God to bless your jubilant flight
From being Miss to Mrs. Lady Bright
As you gladly walk by faith, not by sight
With your man of dreams along wisdom’s light.
My best wishes are coupled with hugs’ tight
Sending you well my warm care of no blight
While the Lord keeps* you in His gracious sight
Blessing you and your marriage day and night.
*Numbers 6:24 The LORD bless thee, and keep thee.
February 26, 2020
3rd place, "Occasional Poetry" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer; judged on 3/5/2020.
"My zestful fellowship with God in prayer comes from His zeal to meet me midst His vibrant partnership." by the Poet
Midst zestful prayer* to God Almighty
my soul finds blessed comfort in His light
shining with peaceful bliss’ tranquility
for praise-filled worship of triumphant flight.
Zestful communion with the Lord brings joy
amidst anguish, sorrow, trouble and pain
smiting doubt-caused miseries that annoy
toward wondrous, serene thanksgiving gain.
Zestful supplication to Christ always
brings hope upon His inviting altar
building up steadfast faith to face with grace
trials while standing as firm Gibraltar.
Zestful intimacy with gracious King
of compassion, mercy and wisdom thrill
guards my heart from guilty carnal lurking
so I can reach summit of service-hill.
Zestful around Saviour’s compassion bond
my spirit claims jubilant victory
clinging for divine aid, sans magic wand
fulfilling roles with zeal* for His glory.
*Titus 2:14 Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.
May 13, 2023
1st place, "Writing Challenge - 'Z' Words" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 5/14/2023.
Rising above trials
with faith jubilant
we trust our great Saviour
the Christ*, triumphant.
Soaring toward vict’ry
from fear and distress
we cling to the Father
our mighty fortress.
Chorus:
With hope in the Lord, we can prevail
conquering life’s crises…
yielded to His strength, we can avail
of blest promises.
Let’s keep on pursuing
midst freedom-fervor
to reach further milestones
with God’s kind favor.
Forsaking guilt’s torment
we seek pardon’s grace
for peace in life-building
upheld by His brace.
Chorus:
With hope in the Lord, we can prevail
conquering life’s crises…
yielded to His strength, we can avail
of blest promises!
*2Corinthians 2:14 Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.
July 23, 2020
2nd place, "A song of hope" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton; judged on 8/8/2020.
Mirth’s brightness… like sun’s rays… warmly vibrant
Engulfs my heart seeing my child’s delight
Radiating contentment for ice cream-licks...
Midst laughter of a champ so jubilant
His eyes sparkling with cheerful neon light
Beaming gladly, subduing tantrum’s flicks.
“Thank you, Mom” asserts glee’s sign language bliss
Earnest gratitude, bereft of naughty tricks
His exuberance beyond satisfaction-height
Overwhelms complaint-angst I must dismiss
Learning to be content along joy-picks…
Praising* blessings’ Source!
*Psalm 84:4 Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: they will be still praising thee.
June 10, 2019
Modified curtal sonnet with the addition of one line at the end of the poem
Honorable Mention, "Going Deep within an Emotion" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Sheri Fresonke Harper; judged on 7/27/2019.
The child is a poet with innocent eyes
And a bumpity A-B-C rhyme,
A dancer whose feet with the rhythm of life
Move in jubilant one-two-three time.
The child is a doctor who heals with a kiss
And treats with a serum called smile,
A researcher who seeks out the meaning of life,
Then explains it with unflinching style.
The child is a chef who makes sandwich and Kool-Aid
And thinks it a royal repast,
A hero who battles the monsters and villains
And renders our land safe at last.
The child is a teacher, a sleuth, an explorer,
Controller of race car and ship,
Possessor of limitless spirit and mind
With holster and gun at the hip.
Reflections of children shine pure in the eyes
Of those who are watching them grow,
Remembering times when the sunrise meant journeys
To lands where adults cannot go.
Written in 1987
Crowned May Queen
As the music flows in my mind and soul in cheer
I dance around on my toes in the sun kissed fragrant fields
of wildflowers and tall emerald green grass yields
With a breath of life that dwells the day is near
For I’m favored to be the prettiest maiden here
All eyes will be on me in my white lace dress
and closed shoes I will astound with my hair in curls
and a crown of blossoms and leaves of green
when I'm honored with the crown of May Queen
a symbol of the stillness of nature surrounds
In which everything revolves around
Early bright is here with a clear blue unclouded sky
My friends and neighbors are all excited to their utmost ability
Townships and villages celebrating springtime fertility
Handsome couples gathering bouquets of flowers from nearby
decorating the whole town with springtime greenery and mystify
I lead the celebration up to the heart of town singing
Old buildings and tables are adorned
with scented blooms that leave you breathless
Populace displays all the elegance of their dress
Dressed in white, carrying garlands of flowers
and beaming children follow giggling and dancing
They place a crown of blossoms on my head,
I say a speech from my soul and set off the festivities,
with dance and overwhelming merriment
Musicians play their musical instruments with talent
with eating, drinking, jubilant music,
and courtly lovers dancing around the Maypole
A feast fit for a King, everyone enjoys
crafts, games, and carousel to console
With a breath of life at the age of sixteen
As the music flows in my mind and soul
I dance around the maypole
Favored for being the prettiest maiden seen
Honored with being crowned May Queen
By: Eve Roper 4/18/2015 Quintella Form
Children Story
The day I died I smiled,
This was the day I waited for
from the day I was born
Now I’ll go to heaven
and meet my eternal God,
I’ll meet beautiful fairies and
hobnob with the angels divine.
I’ll stay away from the tree of knowledge,
and adamantly deny the devil’s design--
Dah! Just wouldn’t eat the fruit of this tree
for I have the free will on my side
and privy I am to Adam and Eve’s plight.
But in the midst of nowhere I stood still
Dumbfounded like in a twilight zone
with not a stirring soul in sight;
It wasn’t heaven but not hell alright!
Now who said it was all honey and milk?
Has he seen it firsthand I was beginning to think?
No wind, no sky, not even a wisp of cloud,
No howling spirits or a jubilant crowd;
Hello!!! I let out a resounding shout,
Hello, anybody there I cried out?
Now without a body, no mind, no heart,
Just a spirit I was beginning to fall apart.
There was this one yawning void
Absolute darkness, absolute quiet,
There were no eyes for me to see
There were no ears to hear,
Just an oppressive nothingness by far—
No desires, no aspirations,
No goals, no directions,
No love, no hate, no anger,
Neither kith and kin nor a stranger.
Overwhelmed by a feeling of nostalgia
I turned around with a pressing urge
to get home and with my body merge.
Oh, how I miss the ocean and the fresh air
And my kindred souls to love and care--
Ha! Here is my heaven and here’s my hell
The only place that exists now I know well.
~Abdul Malik / 11/26/15
I went to Heaven contest by Laura Urbaniak
A Willow Once Pondered
As I lay beneath this willow tree, cresting the banks of a nearby creek.
Its budding branches swaying to natures whispered symphony, with a floral scent on a gentle breeze.
Lilac, and jasmine oh how they fare so well.
So soft is the sweet sound of a laughing butterfly as it bounds near fluttering to an enchanted spell.
In its jubilant exuberance does it playfully glide along on its way.
Such wonder and delight as spring wine and its sweet taste upon a young man's lips.
In its serendipitous subtly, the sylvan siren songs of nature call my name.
My thoughts have been of plenty, and oft do I reminisce.
As I lay here, languishing in my lazy bliss.
With pen and paper in hand, I jot, but a few bits of scribble.
Long have I pondered the existence of this graceful willow.
To compare it to my worth.
Am I deep into my soul as its roots run to the ground?
Am I what I dream myself to be, or am I what you perceive of me?
Do I bend to the breeze as lithe as this tree when I hear your decree?
Do I lack thereof a diligent dedication?
Or are the words that I describe with delicate dignity for that of a higher divinity?
Long have I dwelt here in my private thoughts, searching for such a subtle meaning.
How capricious and coy in its nurtured nature, what facet false façade would you have me be?
These opine of what you deride in me have my dull drum so dark and dreary.
Would you cast me upon the lost and wretched weary?
Perhaps I am more than meets your eye.
A Poet to be or not.
To stay faithful to my stated natured grace.
Or to step forth from my worded realm and secluded place and acquiesce to your demands of deference.
How roughshod rough and to tumble you come at me.
What a cold and callous complacency you would have me be?
No, World, I will be as this Willow and stay true to my nature.
And feel the love of God with infinite in the divinity.
I, as a Poet, will always hear nature's sirens song.
Blessed with divine heritage*
We are settled in God’s plan
To bear His name of heavenly vantage
As chosen to belong to His royal clan.
Endowed with godly legacy
As the Lord’s servants, called in His vineyard to be triumphant
We are bestowed His grace, love, and mercy
To live for Him, ascending by faith upward, peacefully jubilant.
*Isaiah 54:17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their righteousness is of me, saith the LORD.
April 12, 2019