Long Pasture Poems
Long Pasture Poems. Below are the most popular long Pasture by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pasture poems by poem length and keyword.
Can others see God’s victory* in our Christianity?
That’s our testimony’s light against worldliness’ obscurity…
Are we consistent with our talk and walk’s spirituality???
May we not be an offence because of our carnality…
As we consider the Lord’s purity while He was in His humanity!!!
Can others see God’s victory in our posture?
That’s our conviction along biblical standards’ venture...
Are we wise in our gesture toward temporal pasture???
May we not be losers in our eternal departure…
As we acknowledge the Lord’s integrity midst earthly culture!!!
*1Corinthians 15:57 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
May 11, 2019
DISCOVER THE ABODE OF ECSTASY
When opaque nights are starless and gloomy days hazy
to steer the lost life through the mist of maze isn’t easy.
When garden flowers turn pale and pasture grass brown
secret tears fill up a fathomless sea for all hopes to drown.
When the consigned road to travel is long and time finite
the restive mind loses the vision of wisdom for insight.
The journey becomes a river finding the course of its own
taking you to your destined destination not ever known.
So, don’t measure the road and time, take the rout as set
through stardust draped nights and sunburst days you get.
So don’t ask the purpose of journey for you won’t know,
travel through the valley of flowers and verdant meadow.
So, don’t drown the hopes in sea of despair, travel content
on segments of new road you pave in your time present.
So, don’t make the mind lose the way, let it delve inside,
that’s where you’ll discover the abode of ecstasy to reside.
February 5, 2019
PASSION OF AN ARTIST
The landscapes I paint have fence one or two,
some with bent pegs, some with broken bars.
Fence between chipped pathway with sunset hue
and flowerless garden turned to auburn pasture.
I ask me why, and delve deep in mind,
feel my passion dry on life’s contours undefined.
The landscapes I paint have some slices of smoky sky,
clumps of shapeless cloud hang on the hazy horizon
wrapping the yonder slate hills, in recluse they all lie
looking for wings of southern wind to carry them on.
I ask me why, and delve deep in mind,
feel my soul fly away, the empty life left behind.
The landscapes I paint have tall trees in close cluster
standing erect in foreground, some green, some brown.
Scorched by summer sun the foliage has lost the luster,
in their still shadow splendor of verdant pasture drowns.
I ask me why, and delve deep in mind,
feel my senses lie deep inside, I can’t find.
The portraits I paint always have on them birthmark
on the cleft of the right cheek, some light, some dark,
so, on the frozen face pulsating beauty could embark,
implant indelible signature of creativity of artist’s work.
I ask me why, and delve deep in mind,
feel my passion try, make a mark of momentous kind.
February 17, 2019
The dusty road is now black topped
Windows can be opened
to let in plenty of clean fresh air
though no house stands chosen
The fence still stands in some places
The pasture filled with trees
Our large garden spot overgrown
Once gathered in no breeze
Memories happy and unpleasant
Flood my memory banks
Thoughts of the graveyard flow
Overgrown with vines or blank?
Is the path clear of those briars
Or overgrown with vines?
Those wild grape and honeysuckle
Can wrap, entwine sometimes
Grasping handle of the car door
Seemed to be drawn that way
Dusk slowly creeps and pulls me north
With just a flashlight sway
To see the graves of my loved ones
At 'twilight's quiet time
Though brambles and strong briars
Strains weakening heart's lifetime
In the morning's brilliant sunrise
The flashlight did no good
She was found among the brambles
Near a grave that stood
Erect with her name engraved
The date that she was born
Also the date she died beside
That day she was reborn
Proud~ free from the overgrown vines
Cleared at the edge of woods
The visit was her next to last
Buried now in those backwoods
Written: October 4, 2016, Rewritten: October 05, 2016
Inspired by Broken Wings' Contest Overgrown With Vines and
"Scare Me Good Contest"
Irregular syllable count~~ Poetic License
April 13 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on 1Kings 3-5
Key Verse – 1Kings 3:11-12 And God said unto him, Because thou hast asked this thing, and hast not asked for thyself long life; neither hast asked riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thine enemies; but hast asked for thyself understanding to discern judgment; Behold, I have done according to thy words: lo, I have given thee a wise and an understanding heart; so that there was none like thee before thee, neither after thee shall any arise like unto thee.
HEART THAT ASKS GOD FOR WISDOM
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our spirituality
Upon His loving authority
Around His control’s sovereignty
For us to be surely productive in our Biblical Christianity.
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our welfare
Upon His gracious care
Around His mercy’s stare
For us to be divinely aware in our dealings regarding heavenly affair.
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our faithfulness
Upon His patient goodness
Around His compassion’s gentleness
For us to be serenely fruitful in our stewardship’s productiveness.
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our salvation-fruition
Upon His assured redemption
Around His righteousness’ justification
For us to be virtuously holy in our character transformation.
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our service
Upon His trustworthy promise
Around His command’s notice
For us to be constantly circumspect in our ministerial office.
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our future
Upon His everlasting nature
Around His eternity’s pasture
For us to be joyously loving in our kindness’ gesture.
Our heart asks God for wisdom in our stewardship
Upon His Scriptural discipleship
Around His friendship’s fellowship
For us to be steadfastly diligent in our obedience to His leadership.
April 13, 2026
David had two wives, and I have none
Was he truly never in need and not of wants
Oh, how is this not a comical pun
Just to say that he was full of need and wants
Did YWHW give him, or did he earn?
Did he have a Shepard or a servant?
I feel that the imperfected get to have their desires burn?
It seems like he had a servant
What is life but a quest for a wife
All I see is a constant green pasture of broken promises
What is a wife but a quest for a positive life
Imperfection is awarded while perfection is with broken promises
The shadow of death weaps for me as it sees the world through my eyes
Oh how they cry when the time flies!
Abiding in God and in His faithfulness, I shall be like a tree* of fruitfulness
Blessed to do His perfect will, planted along His righteousness
Called to conform toward Christ against worldliness
Driven toward His triumph midst blissfulness.
Ever-upheld by the Lord by His river of provisions’ flow
Freed indeed from grip of worthless vanity-blow
Graciously geared-up to worship with glow
Hoisted for faith-ascent, I go and grow.
Instilled with divine nature with my roots absorbing great spiritual nurture
Jubilantly, I keep on reaching-out while staying in spiritual pasture
Kindled to practice kindness with caring goodness-culture
Loving, marked by the Saviour’s compassion-feature.
Moved by the Almighty, I press on toward service-fulfillment height
Nourished as His tree, bearing sweet fruits of heavenly delight
Offering myself fully well with obedience of optimized might
Persevering to exalt Him, basking in His light.
*Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.
May 18, 2024
2nd place, "A - TYPES OF FORMS" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 5/25/2024
There has to be a sudden sunlight
breaking the mist and clouds.
A shaft of dazzling brightness
that lifts the murk completely
off the landscape.
Conditions must be just so,
then there it is
you are looking down
from the high moors into a lost valley.
A place unrecorded on any map
yet many claim to have glimpsed it.
A sweet verdant expanses of rolling hills
through which a rivulet sparkles as it flows
over chalk white stones.
Yellow-green is the pasture
and gold the tips of the corn grass
but this is only a transitory vision we see,
a momentary mirage,
then the clouds mash together,
mist covers the view once more.
We are left with just these tall tales
that we swap with other walkers
in the village pub below.
Slowing Down
(Allows “I can’t” to be an option)
6-1-2016
With softness the dew lies on daybreaks pasture,
But today sets about much as those gone before.
As I’ve become slower, time is scampering faster,
There’s never enough time for that one last chore.
Current days find that enthusiasm, has vanished,
And it’s satisfying no more to have done my best.
No longer have the words “I can’t” been banished,
And every few minutes, from my pain, I seek rest.
I can’t, are two words I would never use;
While I have been unsuccessful in doing things,
I never failed to give my best effort-until now.
Tom
How many head do you have?
He turns his weathered face toward me. You buy’n?
His hazel eyes are dancing; I am no cowboy.
I'm in the throes of boot stomping country.
Saturday nights are for dancing
And you better be sleeping in church on Sunday.
I take a big whiff of healthy country air.
We're standing next to a pasture full of bluebells.
There are clumps of succulents on either side of this old barn.
She needs paint everywhere except for her brand-new window.
Two antique milk jugs are down here, with yellow and purple petunias.
The missus, he explains noticing my noticing.
A black crow lights on a fence post about twenty feet away.
The most annoying croaking caw sound.
He is not happy you’re here, the old timer tells me. I grin.
There is one lone renegade sunflower to the left of the shed.
I wonder about that, but do not ask.
Want to see the horses or the cows? He asks.
I want to see both, I say.
We’ll start with the horses then.
The cows are mucking around in the mud; you’ll have to put on waders.
I try to look pleased.