Long Messenger Poems
Long Messenger Poems. Below are the most popular long Messenger by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Messenger poems by poem length and keyword.
I am the stag of seven tines
The yule stag
a roebuck in the thicket
I am the ever hunted messenger of life
5 days during the years end I run
5 days the fey door stands open
5 days pursued by grim death and his hounds
Hard upon my heels
Hasten ready the sun calls
Quicken, race, a son is born
Bringing the yuletide season great cheer
With bells on my antlers, they ring
Flying on Windsong delighting the little king
Flying cross the sunrise
Past a winter sea, I sail
Seeing the ship to see his nativity
Far behind us weep the willows still
Bent with ice as frozen tear,
And branches frail.
Passed the cottage bright with candle
Yellow flame against the night, nearby in a manger
lovely mother Jesus cradling
Joyful tears hitting ground
Prayers answered in holy child
Angel guard against pale moonlight
Closer to the little king I stumble
and bow my head to Mary's little baby,
Death stops, hounds halt their baying
All is quiet, grim death himself bows and turns.
I bow again to the lord of all life
Precious king of all peace and light
Crowned by a star, gold, frankincense, and myrrh,
All this moonlit night.
~My Plea To God~
(Messenger)
I always make sure that I seek God
I know is the smart thing to do
Love faith hope will help me through
You sustain me when I fall
Father I give it all to you
You hear my prayers every day
Lord help me see things clear
Be more like you each year
In you Lord I trust all my whole life
Without you I'd conpletely lost
You hold me dear thru life's storms
You're my savior, I love you
You forgive my sins, you're my lord
You can use me any way you want
Lord help me see things clear
Be more like you each year.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010
October.28.2015
~Author's Notes:
The "Messenger" is a poetry style created by Christina R. Jussaume.
The Christmas Story
A decree was sent throughout the land of Judea
by Caesar Augustus that all must return to their town
of origin for the census and the paying of taxes to Rome.
Besmirched by others, shunned by kin,
Mary and Joseph sojourned to Bethlehem, Judea,
with the angel of the Lord watching over them.
And Mary, being in the throes of childbirth,
had Joseph deliver “Emmanuel” into the world.
In the firmament, a host of angels sang,
and a messenger in the glory of God that shone
appeared to shepherds with the good news,
who then left their flocks to seek out the miracle.
They found the lissome mother in repose,
nursing the baby in the inn’s stable.
Finished, Mary laid the Saviour in a manger,
and the shepherds rejoiced and praised God
for His favour in keeping His “Messiah” promise,
words Mary treasured and pondered in her heart.
And a celestial body shining brighter than most
was seen by wise men in foreign lands
who set off on a journey to worship the Lord
with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
For it was written: “For out of you [Bethlehem, in the land of Judah]
will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.”
Somewhere in the night, a fallen angel lurked
with pinion wings clipped to walk the earth,
and instilled evil in the heart of King Herod,
who then plotted to kill Jesus. But the angel of the Lord
warned Joseph in a dream to flee with Mary and the baby to Egypt!
After Herod’s death, the family returned to Galilee.
***
References:
1 Isaiah 7:14 and Isaiah 9:6.
2 Matthew 1:18-2:23 and Luke 2:1-20.
3 Micah 5:2 (NIV).
PEN
At first, it was just another pen
A ballpoint, as is called by some
Not one in that old clear plastic
But shiny metal, looking fantastic
A present, as fancy as they come
Quite the classy image back then
That silvery glint in my top pocket
And a perfect weight in my hand
I used it for all my college work
And if ever I lost it, I’d go berserk
All avid students will understand
It was my thing, so don’t mock it
Over time, it became my identity
Still as the messenger of my writing
My signature in places I had to sign
Unique, clearly to know it was mine
Then creative stuff became exciting
On the page, words flowed rapidly
I replaced the refills, always black
In my life it was a solid workhorse
I held it up to point, for emphasis
It was a poor performer’s nemesis
As detailed in my notes of course
A reliable instrument I’d never lack
From the first day that I was hired
I wielded that pen just like a sword
The barrel shone, the clip was strong
No smudging and never went wrong
Given a new gold pen by the Board
A parting gift when we both retired
Most hosts set out the good liquor until their guests starting getting drunk
and then they commence to serving the watered down and inferior junk
but when Jesus turned that sacred water into a fine wine
the guests remarked to the host, "you saved the best for last this time"
As a child I heard one of the last speeches of Dr. Martin Luther King
It went simply by the title of "I Have a Dream"
I was too young to comprehend that a historical moment had passed
but somehow I knew that Dr. King has saved the best for last
Over the course of time God sent many prophets, rulers and kings
to deliver His "Good News" and explain to the people what it means
from Abraham to Isaac, from Jeremiah to Malachi
all men sent to give us the Word from the Kingdom up on high
from Solomon to David to Daniel in the lion's den
God realized that He could not rely on the words coming from mere men
The Holy Spirit then descended on Mary and the die had been cast
when He finally sent His earthly son, Jesus of Christ at last
God needed a sinless soul to help mankind understand
that the Word of God is the ultimate life living plan
God needed an open mind to relate the parables and the stories
that in order to reach the Kingdom you must learn to give God all the glory
God needed a pure heart to demonstrate true compassion and care
and communicate to mankind that loving each other will draw Him near
and after all was said and done when the Son of Man did pass
we have finally come to realize that God saved the best for last
for God will shake you up
in order to wake you up
God will knock you down
in order to turn you around
He will put you in a place
where you will see the power of his grace
Jesus of Nazareth was God's only begotten son
His life and death was the sacrifice so that the victory could be won
He was the last messenger sent to give us God's gospel
He was that perfect being sent to do the impossible
He was a miracle maker and a spiritual awaker
His life and purpose for being was to offer mankind salvation
His mission was for God and mankind to have reconciliation
His death a crucifixion, an assassination, the ultimate and final task
and like Dr. King, the Lord God knew to save the best for last
I see golden fields, I think of her.
Running, playing, laughing.
I look at the hot fire, I think of her.
Gone, smoke bellowing into the sky.
She is everywhere, but no-where.
For years and years, time plays tricks.
It all feels like yesterday, only yesterday.
This is what lack of closure does.
Without it, the heart mourns endlessly.
Within the body it lies, no-one sees.
Flowing like all rivers into an ocean.
So vast that it engulfs, one is lost.
Turbulent waves all around, crashing.
She was a child, smile so cheerful bright.
The messenger left behind, words stolen.
Silent places in the corners of the mind.
Thieves always standing in the darkness.
Yet, I can still feel her hand.
Heidi Sands
1/26/17
The Eagle,
Mightiest and most majestic of all the birds.
Revered by the American Indian as Most Blessed of all the Animals by The Creator.
According to Indian legend of all the birds The Creator chose the Eagle to be the leader,
Master of the sky.
He flies higher and sees better than any other bird.
As he roams the sky the Eagle is believed to have a special connection with God.
He is considered to be a messenger to God and was given the honor of carrying the prayers of Man between the World of Earth and the World of Spirit where The Creator resides.
The wings of the Eagle represent the balance needed between male and female, each dependant upon the strengths and abilities of the other.
To wear or hold an Eagle feather causes The Creator to take immediate notice.
With the Eagle feather The Creator is honored in the highest way.
When one receives an Eagle feather that person is being acknowledged with gratitude, love and ultimate respect.
Only real true Men and Women carry an Eagle feather.
Eagle feathers are never to be abused, dropped or contaminated in any way.
If for any reason it is dropped it must be cleansed in a proper cleansing ceremony.
The keeper of an Eagle feather makes a little home where the feather will be kept safely and protected.
It should be hung up within one's home not placed in a drawer or cupboard.
Eagle feathers were awarded to Braves, Warriors and Chiefs for acts of valor and bravery.
These feathers were difficult to come by and had to be earned one at a time.
No matter how he came by possessing an Eagle feather, no one was allowed to wear one until it was proved he had won it in an act of bravery according to Tribal Law.
An Indian would rather part with his horse or his tepee rather than lose one of his feathers. To do so would be dishonor in the eyes of his tribe.
Under U.S. and Canadian Law a permit is required from official government conservation authorities for anyone to possess an Eagle feather.
Judy Ball
For Pure Thoughts On Nature Contest by John Freeman
Crafty, conniving, sly and stately,
I am associated with dead and lost souls,
An ominous bird of yore spawning myths and legends,
A messenger of deities in the mortal world,
I am a wily mediator between life and death--
Dreaded but revered nonetheless!
I showed Cain how to bury his murdered brother, Abel,
Perched on the shoulder of the god, Odin,
A royal resident of the Tower of London,
I hobnob with sorcerers and saints
with monarchs and mendicants;
With beady eyes and lustrous ebony plumage
I am mantled in a grave aura of foreboding.
Take heed when I fly across your path,
Perched just above his chamber door
I made Poe fella famous evermore!
Raven=magic, shape-shifting, creation.
"Picture yourself as a Bird" contest by Andrea Dietrich
Patradoot or The Messenger17 /Many
English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor
Originally written in Hindi by my
Late father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Description of TRIVENI or ALLAHABAD known as SANGAM CITY.
All around on the Ganges bed, you would find the plantations,
Of water melon, cucumber and sweet melon, being grown by farmers,
And village girls would be singing amid them, dear letter,
While watering these plants by taking water from river Ganges.
Some where, you would see the devotees taking bath,
In the holy river Ganges in groups, like musical notes,
At some place you too may get lost for a while,
To see them lost in meditation of their Gods, dear letter.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 10th June 2010 to continue in 18
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
Note:
If any reader who is not a member of Poetry soup
has any question or queries, they can
send me an email on [email protected]
Patradoot in Hindi was originally written by my father late
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932, when he was imprisoned
by the British, as he was fighting for India's freedom
under the leadership of Mahatma Gandhi. After India’s
independence as a true follower of Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath
Kapoor left active politics and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994.
A heavenly feather falls slowly and lands in free
its a symbol of angelhood and celestial mediation
Soothingly, comfortingly, a Sensei surrounds me
and showers me with blessings as I claim reaction
and write, for I am a poet that is what I do...
An angel divine incarnate without pious duple
sincere in her approach she never cleaves fear
for her gentleness instructs me like a Holy wimple
ministering with anoint from close then near ;
I write, for I am a poet and that is what I do
Alabaster skies with electric blue streaks of night
adhere to her path like a messenger of old and
claim your place in the banquet of His light
she is a paragon of love , fingers in the sand
I write for I am a poet and that is what I do.