Breakfast Prayer Poems | Examples
These Breakfast Prayer poems are examples of Prayer poems about Breakfast. These are the best examples of Prayer Breakfast poems written by international poets.
Waking up to a brand-new day with a smile—
A gentle smile.
Remembering school days with friends,
Playing in the mud with pets,
Watering my favorite rose plant,
Hoping to see it bloom... and smile.
A smile on the faces of loved ones
Lights up the path ahead with glow.
A healthy breakfast, a smooth ride—
Fueling joy to face the tasks of the day.
Fine weather promises a sweet beginning,
A smile makes each moment worth living.
With prayers to the Lord for a blessed start,
And greeting others on birthdays—pure joy from the heart.
A neatly dressed soul sparks a smile,
A clean home admired all the while.
Tasty food brings thankful delight,
And timely support earns a grateful smile—so bright.
So many moments, big and small,
Hold the power to brighten all.
In every act of love and grace,
A smile finds its rightful place.
Dear God,
I know I don’t believe in you.
I know I take a lot more than I give.
I know I’m not a perfect woman.
Or even a woman, at that.
But please God, give me
A man to eat breakfast with
Or
A woman to cuddle at night
Or
A man to leave dishes in the sink
Or
A woman to leave the keys in the door.
I know I don’t deserve it.
I know they won’t be perfect.
I know my prince charming will never come riding in on a white horse.
But please, Lord, give me someone.
Been pacing the yard all day
hungry as a bear
Nobody put out my mainstay
my Kibbles and Bits
Barking loud at the backdoor
I say a prayer -
Lord, somebody, please can you pour
some Kibbles and Bits?
At last, the door breaks open
Anybody care?
Maybe they'll notice, I'm hopin'
for Kibbles and Bits.
Here it comes, and with a leap
I tackle my fare.
Such a relief, I fall asleep
on Kibbles and Bits.
January 12, 2023
EKPHRASIS
google dog memes, Bed and Breakfast
I
On this terrestrial ball
Water is it, almost all
But for prayer
II
When love blooms, we can fast
Avoid breakfast, any repast
But "whence such love"?
III
Prayer will consume private sins
Or Sins "will choke prayer,"
Wrote J.C. Ryle before dying (1900)
IV
When all is dark and I'm hopeless
Yet i pray (Thy will be done, O Universe)
Because prayer is my water, living water.
blistering hot days
cooked breakfast on the sidewalk
flowers pray for rain
When I first open my eyes to meet the morning
There is the hope for sunshine rays
Chanting out a welcome to my praises
Sent up to heaven on the wings of
Beautiful cardinals and finches, wrens
Who have decided to eat their breakfast with me
The woman who feeds the cat dog food
And waters flowers with too much appreciation
For their gracefulness and inspiration
The feelings that glisten through my spirit
As I whisper to them of dreams and healing
A joy that brightens the day with hues
Of azure and scarlet, prayers of shining devotion
Breathed from the calm voice of one who knows
God is listening to even the dust that flickers
In the light of a dawn rising across the ridges
Dancing through the moment like liquid laughter
Caressing the soul with dreams loud and colorful
Passion so vibrant it sings of a glory on earth
Peace and promise and wisdom that cries out
With hope, faith and love built on God’s grace
Living proof that His mercy is forever great!
The Mouse
Get up, get up,
and start the day.
It is bright...,
and happy, I’m here to say.
Jump out, from the bed,
and out of the hole,
Through the door,
and across the floor.
Go.
The farmer’s wife is cookin...
Breakfast at first then,
on with a thirst,
fresh coffee at the burner.
“Grab a cup”.
Little furry friend, come to stay the day…
The Lord is watching too.
There are so many, but
so often, he is only heard,
by the few.
He sees the needs of those so small,
yet feels they are among the tall.
They are not forgotten,
Even…one.
Casually, comforting…
He offers his own goblet,
a container full of grace!
So large…so mighty
held open there, right in the air…
A gift... as wide as space.
On Sunday mornings
just what does the world do?
Such a large population off from work,
services and breakfast complete
and greeted by the day bright, clear and sunny?
We set our sights on shopping, off to the mall
or hurrying to ball games,
some preset enterprise
well planned earlier in the week.
Even Sunday services seem hurried,
people barely able to contain distraction
from an hour set aside for prayer.
Some come late, some leave early,
some check their phones for messages or calls
while others whisper conversations and plans for the day.
God above must indeed be saddened
with the one hour compromised
by so many things more important than prayer
and reflection of the mind and soul.
So many Sunday mornings come and go
with little focus from the daily race.
I want an alarm clock. .
I want it to ring when I need to get up,
I want it to ring when I have to serve breakfast, lunch and dinner,
I want it to ring when I need to stare into the skies,
I want it to ring when I need to call my dear ones,
I want it to ring when I need to dream,
I want it to ring when I need to wake up to reality,
I want it to ring when I have to plunge into the water,
I want it to ring when I ought to get to the prayer hall,
I want it to ring when I need to wash the car,
I want it to ring when I have no stock of groceries,
I want it to ring when my blood boils,
I want it to ring when my temper no longer holds,
I want it to ring when I am disoriented,
I want it to ring when I know not what I am doing,
I want it to ring when I need to make coffee,
I want it to ring when I can let people read me,
I want it to ring when I need to talk to myself,
I want it to ring when I want it to ring,
I want an alarm clock. . .
Dark eyed stellar crown
I lay out seeds for breakfast
Our morning prayer
I miss the sweet sweet morning prayer I used to say,
In the lights of early morn, in the darkness of losing night.
In that surrealistic atmosphere I used to pray,
To the One who possesses endless might.
I used to make a society with my Lord;
The only society where I was so happy.
There used to be He and I and nobody else;
He used to call me with affection and I used to respond.
And I miss all that blissfull feelings
Of early morning breeze, so tender, so sweet......
And the smell of morning sweat so honestly earned,
And the pleasure of walking on the wide empty streets.
Then coming back home with endless satisfection
Of pride, of wisdom, of solitude.
Then reading stories about witches and fairies,
In such and atmosphere so close to the action!
But now the morning prayer is never the same,
Its just aformality of going into the busy day (that lies ahead).
Then going into the breakfast so testlessly cooked,
With smashed potatos and mushrooms and thick pieces of bread