Long Shares Poems
Long Shares Poems. Below are the most popular long Shares by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shares poems by poem length and keyword.
In the house of the Lord...
Satan is not allowed,
only holy people dwell into it;
and they burn incense every sunrise and dawn,
to keep Him away from the throne of Jehovah God!
And they sing praises
to Him, the Holiest One,
and to Christ they ask compassion
for the earthly ones who are weak...
and can't humble themselves and be exalted!
Angels gather to do His will,
and Jesus among them smiles,
to share all the glory with the Father;
A chorus arises and echoes through the serene and open Heavens,
to make all creations bow to their Master!
I bow down to my kind and loving God,
whose face I am not permitted to see,
lest awe and death smite me;
touch me, Jesus and heal me...
with those hands, where nails entered and made you scream and bleed!
If sin made me lose divine wisdom,
I repent of my foolishness and whisper
my profound prayer of forgiveness;
welcome me back into Your house, Lord...
and I will perpetually obey your commandments!
The vanity and the blindness
will be cleansed by the waters of Holiness,
and all my imperfections You will not remember!
In the house of the Lord,
only peace can be heard and purity
can be felt in the verses of the hymns;
let me praise you with Your angels indefinitely,
and finally behold Your radiant face!
In the house of the Lord,
all His children are loved equally,
and they serve Him with reverence. In the house of the Lord,
Christ shares His father's throne to judge every soul;
and on the right side, he receives all the worthy!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
The human spirit is a wondrous gift
bestowed on us by God the day we're born;
instilled within our souls to grow and lift
the hearts of fellow humans- sad and torn.
The human spirit is our life-long prize
to share with others too in happy times
applauding them when triumphs do arise
and watching how each thankful spirit climbs.
The human spirit shapes our life each day
creates a mold on how each will be spent;
to live it in the best uplifting way
with God's true love and grace to represent.
The human spirit- promising and kind-
shares love in heart and grace in soul combined.
September 15, 2022
I’ve brought you a Mother's Day
bouquet tied with a black bow.
And amidst twelve red roses,
I placed one as white as snow.
You gave birth to thirteen souls
but one passed on before you.
And I recall how that pain
nearly tore your heart in two.
This sprig of scented kisses
is to tell you we're alright.
And each red rose is thriving,
while the white shares heaven's light.
This floral salutation
is to honor you today.
And tell you that I love you,
in my sentimental way.
When angels took you from me,
I laid roses on your grave.
And not knowing what to say,
I tried my best to be brave.
I miss your smile in my life;
now, I no longer feel whole.
For it lit up the dark and
illuminated my soul.
These thoughts will follow
whenever the soldiers go...
to be with them into the battlefield,
reciting the shortest prayer
to protect them as a shield
in moments of uncertainty and fear!
A heart penetrated by sorrow
shares their belief deeply,
there will be many anxieties
appearing on their undistracted
and unyielding faces sunk in darkness,
so that they must never relent or show
weakness when their lives are threatened
and troubled by the unmerciful enemy!
This mind pervaded by horror and grief
struggles with the thought of death,
why must one give one's precious life
and free those oppressed by tyrants?
And would this life be enough to relieve
the direful desperation of horrific visions,
simply by knowing that there's someone
out there willing to join them in their fight...
despite the horrible pounding in their chest:
whenever the soldiers go to achieve their quest?
He silences the screams of pain
From horrors fought by darkest thoughts
He whispers comfort through the rain
As storms obscure the peace and faith
He breathes inspirations I can’t contain
Sensations so amazing they sing praise
He comforts the heart who is fearful
With promises of joy, hope and strength
He pierces the darkness that is tearful
Assuring in hues of mercy and blessing
He brings a light of love that is cheerful
Abounding in courage and positivity
He baptizes the soul in feelings of grace
Awakening dreams in brilliant hues
He warms the spirit with a tender embrace
Dripping kindness across every thought
He stills all the worry and doubt in the face
Heartening, healing and uplifting dispositions
He gentles the storms and eases all cares
With His glorious love, compassion so alive
He raises the spirits with wonders He shares
Answering prayers with assurance so certain
He sends us miracles like angels unawares
Stirring up dreams that fill our hearts with bliss
He sings to the heart and soul, urging our praises
Arousing the darkest night with stars so ecstatic
He writes His story on our spirits, in words and phrases
Sending us His love on the legends that astonish
He paints His world in hues so beautiful it amazes
Coloring the earth in visions so abundant and radiant
He is my heavenly Father and I am His child
Without His glorious love, I wouldn’t know His Son
He went to the cross so that I could be reconciled
Made right with the One who brings me sweet peace
He is the way, the truth, the life…, the One who smiled
Inspiring me to feel the wonder of His overwhelming love!
Food issues bring odd stealth
(not obsessed with broccoli
inexplicable phobia of brussel sprouts)
It's potato chip indulgence
pandemic binge eating
supersedes duty to diet
Label my needs selfish
(after all, self control isn't freedom!)
Existential angst
Potholes of dire health
Craving: Sea salt potato chips
- a tide leaving stretch mark traces
My shadow now Alfred Hitchcock bloated
(abandoning hope of waist line laudable)
Companionship ceded to bulging bags of potato chips
finger tips that weep salt
(I try to brush it off, but succumb:
'JUST LICK IT')
till crumpled bags curl in sighs
Facebook support groups sought ('who else shares my
salted existence?') More sublime than on-line
naughtiness
Conspiracy Theory: junk food sellers wilfully target my email!
You Tube influencers influence, NO - inflame
cravings that boast an 'R' rating
Self Discovery: I can jog and eat salted chips at the same time
Sweat pants absolve my sins, perfect deception
and are dazzlingly stylish
Post pandemic goal: re-locate to the garden
grab an apple
juicy bites
eat indecently
and ignore the snake.
Poem composed: March 6, 2021 (revised May24/21)
Contest entry: Salt
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
recall first school day
I stood weeping, scared to move
we held hands at five
she vowed to look after me
we were close, with a deep bond
we had sweet-sad thoughts
dispute with football or dolls
taking both shows care
saddened by her lengthy trip
she cupped my cheeks and we kissed
she flushed when I grinned
felt proud and had butterflies
I soothed her last fall
I hugged her and wiped her tears
we took the shield out chatting
hopes ostracise fears
Brooke faded at age twenty-four
I love her thoughts view
her tomb shares highs and lows
for now, she'll stand as best friend
1st Place Contest Winner
Written: August 10, 2022
Syllables checked by HMS.com
Inspired by “Childhood Nostalgia” Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Uncle Roy written by Shadow Hamilton
As the evening drew in and birds settled to roost
the world seemed to give a collected sigh
as it stood poised waiting in the wings
the time had now come to gather up a soul
For a long time he had fought the invertible
reluctant to the end to leave and travel on
memories flashed past his eyes like a cine film
as a child playing with his siblings teasing Joyce
Play fighting with John rolling together over and over
learning the lessons of life and then a trade
meeting his Irish lassie so bonny, building a life
grieving together when children failed to join them
An upright man of principles that he held dear to his heart
Roy built a good life for himself and his Irish lassie Ann
standing strong for her when she was ill with tuberculosis
nursing her back to health passing his strength on to her
Wisely investing in his company shares they were never in need
were able to retire to the country for a new style of life
making many friends in their small village and just enjoying
their twilight years together with their two cats
Finally he had to leave to travel beyond the veil
today we attend his funeral trying to make sense
of why he was snatched when life was so good
in each of his families heart he will live on
His epitaph written deep in our souls
as we say our sad and lonely goodbyes
yet it is not the end as he still lives
deep within the hearts of all who love him
17/06/2014
An old mad sitting alone
No friends or family comes to see him
He shares his space with his only true friend
A typewriter he used for so many years
Together they created
They wrote a million words
Words that came from his twisted mind
Came also from a heart long ago broken
A heart that was never repaired
Writing about love, death, war and peace
A million words that people read
Some were read and thrown away
Others were remembered and shared
Still others changed lives in ways he never knew
With all that no one knew his name
He knows that time is coming to an end
Searching his mind he tries to find the right words
Words that express just how he feels
His mind strains as his heart weakens
Key by key he strokes his friend
Letters appear on a blank white page
The old man looks at what he had written
He smiles as he takes his last breath
The typewriter seems to smile back
There are only three words written
Three words that expressed just how the old man felt
“Go to Hell,” was all he wrote
Maybe, just maybe those were the right words
Maybe they are the words that will be remembered
Now that the old man is gone
Is a man free or numb
Oblivious or ignorant or dumb
When unmoved by events surrounding
As conspicuous, persistent and resounding
As the crumbling becomes
That he still sings psalms
Is a man’s aim to mock
Is his peace demeaning or a shock
To those who see him as out of touch
Not feeling at all if not as much
The scathing scalding shared plight
That has put down the mightiest’s might
Is a man so hollow
That he shares not the world’s sorrow
Does he offend by his peace and happiness
Is he teasing at the world’s emptiness
Is he unwilling to help feel
And will he will as much will as others will to will
Is a man absolutely one with the many
Without the exception of any
That he must surrender his judgment
And strive to endure the torment
Of a burning calling brazing his bones
And his praise to almost be shouted by stones
Isn’t a man God’s own creation
For His purpose, will and timely intention
One to plant and another to reap
One to send and another to keep
All different members but of one body
Duty bound and call ready
K. Muitherero