Long Pastor Poems
Long Pastor Poems. Below are the most popular long Pastor by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pastor poems by poem length and keyword.
He woke and he got down on the creaking knees
He didn't know if God listened but tried
His grandson was in a coma and God was asleep
But he said the prayer but was afraid of the silence
God was the great politician in the sky
And his son Jesus would listen to the poll
When there was trouble God was the first name
Grabbing his coffee he humbly turned to God
In his eyes it was humbly but he loved the sugar
As he sat stirring and sweetened thoughts
The prayers flowed with his coffee
"Maybe God only listens to the regulars"
And he definitely wasn't one
It was years and God was famished
The whispered prayer ended with death and the anger
"Why did you not take me"
"I have lived and gladly would take the grandson's place"
The pastor warmed up and the sisters hummed
The cup spilled over as the prayer of the faithful
He became a hugger and he covered each drink
And the Irish believed in wake and liquor
He hugged the people tight and the salt became a scab
And God left him there with his drink
Pages of your book
By Michelle Morris
09/09/2022
The snowflakes come down
Like a flurry of white hope
Upon the grave that we stand around
The ground silent like our souls
The pastor gives a beautiful service
Words I cannot hear
Not comprehending the message
But knowing it is felt within
I stand like a statue
Cold and silent and alone
Wondering if this is the moment
When I give up my human knowing
I throw soil onto your grave
Before the casket is lowered into the ground
And there stands an angel statue
Weeping for the tears I am unable to find
For if I let them fall freely
What emotions do I have left?
I hold on to the pain
As a way to hold on to you indefinitely
Not trusting my memories
To show the unvarnished truth
Putting our love on a pedestal
A shrine to better moments
Life carries on and on and on
It goes on despite our protestations
The pages of your book
Now halted for the ages
And I wonder what my time holds
Without you here in my life
Will my heart heal again
Or will I be forever frozen in this nightmare?
I walk away from your gravesite
The sight etched in my mind for good
The last words you said to me
A reminder that we talked
Of life and love and death
Of the future and hopes not realised
Now that your book is finished
I'll have to write chapters for you too
The snow blankets the ground
And I wish it could blanket me
The love and light that left your eyes
Like your soul left your human entity
One day I'll see you again
When Heaven brings me home
But until we are together there
I'll remember you in my soul
© Michelle Morris, 2022
Far from still
Just doing the Lord’s will
Bus traveling church on the road
Congregation Mission with a behold
Traveling East to West and North to South
Where the acceleration wheels take them, it is a stop
Spreading salvation through the land
Directed by Heaven at his command
Teaching the Spiritual word
Congregation singing and praying that could be heard
The Pastor preaching on the bus and various points within the USA
This is not just any congregation bus
It is the Intermodal Gateway Church
On assignment being determined
Discerning heart
Being caring souls
Connecting salvation to America
That is praying and connecting the Savior’s spirit
The congregation and Pastor deserve merit
It’s about song and praise
Everything that follows is from the amaze
The road frontier
Always keeping the spirit near
From back roads to major highways
Into towns and major cities
The congregation and Pastor being witty
Testimonial with a message
Wheels of Faith
Distances in length
Worthy cause
Heavenly force
Congregation mind
Heaven’s combined
Bus wheels keep on accelerating
The Congregation has a journey and a mission
Spiritually lifted up
"Make a joyful noise unto the Lord. all you lands.
Oh praise the Lord with thanksgiving and gladness
in your hearts, souls, and mind. And we should
enter into his holy presence with singing and
rejoicing,
All of the lands must know that he is God.
And worship, praise his name, and adore
him. For he has made us and not ourselves.
He knew us before we were in our mother's
womb. And has knitted our inner most
parts together.
For we are his people and sheep of his pastor.
He is the good Shepard that safely guides
his flock by night. Leading us into green
pastor beside the still water.
We shall enter his gates with thanksgiving in
our hearts. We shall enter his courts with
praise and adoration. We will be thankful unto
him by always praising his holy name.
"For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting;
and his truth endures to all generations." Which
are still yet to be born. We shall love the Lord
our God with all of our hearts souls and minds.
We shall love our neighbors and and one another.
Just the same way love ourselves. We shall
faithfully follow the pathways of our Lord God
for the remainder of our days. And we shall
dwell in house of the Lord forever!
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
May 29. 2020
Tears of the living but painful souls are in my eyes.
Tears of the children whose destiny has been robbed;
Tears of the youths whose right has been denied;
Tears of the old parents seeing their wards dying in the hands of suicide bomber.
Tears of the animals are seeing their young ones dying of starvation.
My eyes are full of their tears.
If don’t cry their tears out, I may lose my sight.
Tear of the sea seeing fishes bodies floating on surface of the deep,
Tears of the birds that are falling from the sky; begging humanity to end shooting at the sky
Tears of the sand that is seeing millions of corpses in shallow little graves.
Tears of the poor seeking for freedom that look like mirage.
I can’t stop my eyes from crying their tears, if I do , who will understand that people have tears in their eyes unexpressed.
Tears of unborn generations that keeps me awake all nights.
Tears of the innocent babes in the womb that will be denied of their right.
Tears of seeing images of God begging for food in the midst of abundant of natural resources.
Tears of nations that are suffering in the hand of monsters.
My eyes are dimed , not because of my age; but because of the suffering of creatures; That has taken ages; and yet to end.
Each time I see tears in my eyes, I saw nations in bondage chain;
When will our tears be heard by God?
Looking down the streets,
I saw creature’s eyes pushing out from the windows ;
In pitiful manner, begging their God for the return of Hope.
Written by
Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe
I went to church today
The pastor said a few good things
And I really hate to confess
His words caused a few guilty stings
My life is certainly not perfect
But of course I would like it to be
Although I have a few things right
And it is these things I need to see
I am honest and loyal to a fault
I pray for others when I can
Hopefully they will receive help
From God’s loving hand
But I have so many faults
I need to pray for me
To save my soul from hell
And allow me to be free.
Free to see God’s wonders
And the miracles he can perform
All the things he protects me from
Through life’s thundering storms.
The glorious wonders he allows
Like human kindness I’ve been shown
Makes it all worthwhile in the end
Because God’s love for me is known
Connie Moore
In the crepuscular soothing sunset, bells tolled urging
The aimless audience to attend the sermon of the new pastor.
Despite their cynical sentiments, they dared not absent themselves.
The look of habitual satisfaction on the pastor’s face
was unmistakable. Outside light became penumbra,
Still, men and women trudged towards the chapel,
as the dirge-like bells faded into silence. His audience was silent too.
He spoke in a sonorous voice, in an opulent resonant poetic vein
an exuberant style which was to be his familiar characteristic:
Unbridled jealousy is a sin, he intoned, so speak no evil, my friends.
Faith filled fervency in fellowship with family and friends
Always advising with amazing authority and austerity
True pastor-teacher and talented Jack of all trades
Humble, honest and handsome, he is my hero
Exemplary evangelist with experience and excellence
Robust and reliable, he restlessly runs our residence
Sincere, skilful, smart and sharp-witted with a sensitive side
Dynamic, dauntless and dear, he has a distinctive personality
Articulate and able, ablaze with abiding, ardent love
Yeah, he loves yard work and yearns for yonder heaven.
05.17.2021
For L Milton Hankins' "A tribute to fathers" contest
My phone lights up, the ringer blares,
Disrupting all the morning prayers!
The preacher stops to stare at me,
Like I'm a walking tragedy.
I fumble fast, my wife could die,
With murder flashing in her eye.
But here they are, "Potential Spam,"
A cut-rate loan and mortgage scam!
My sweating face turns burning red,
My spouse just wishes I was dead.
I drop my hymnal, lose my cool,
And look like an unholy fool.
So I answer for all to hear,
Making it abundantly clear:
"I'm not interested in your wares!
I'm in church, and everyone stares!"
I forcefully hang up the phone,
And stand there in the pew, alone.
I awkwardly smile at them instead,
Still wishing I was truly dead.
"Please continue," I softly say,
"I'm not buying a thing today!"
The pastor clears his holy throat,
And reaches for his sermon note.
My wife exhales a heavy sigh,
And prays for rapture from the sky.
But then a buzz, a flashing light,
My phone erupts with all its might!
I panic, trip, and drop the thing,
And let the speaker loudly ring.
A robot voice, so bright and cheery,
Screams, "YOUR CAR'S EXTENDED WARRANTY!"
The pastor stops and shakes his head,
"You'd better take that deal," he said.
"The Lord forgives your earthly sin,
But not the shape your chevys in
I know a group of brothers, twelve,
Who, for their pastor, pray.
They rotate who’s responsible,
A different one each day.
A simple text each morning asks,
“What’s heavy on your mind?”
Sometimes there is an urgency,
Sometimes, the all clear sign.
The thing about this brotherhood
Is when the need is great,
The one assigned will shout it out;
Let all participate.
And if a need arises in
An area of life,
The brother will ask for himself,
His kids, his job, his wife.
It’s not like we’re the only ones;
Of warriors, no lack,
There’s just a comfort knowing that
Your brother’s got your back.