Rest Poems - Poems about Rest

life's so E A SY ~ When you are ...

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And again tomorrow With purple flowers, And the sun above Or clouds and showers Another day comes To rise and to shine, More than enough time To breathe, to feel fine Between dawn and dusk A thousand minutes go, Around and around In moments so slow Another night comes To pause and to rest, Gives us time to smile Knowing we did our best And again tomorrow One more...

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O Gracious and Holy Almighty God and Everlasting Father, Have your redeemed children lost our first love for Thee? Is your only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, no longer taking His center stage and rightful place in our all too hectic lives? Don't we know when it was the last time that watery tear drops Freely flowed from our eyes, when...

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Let me rest, For now I am tired of these quests. What prize for me awaits? Those hollow salutes and opened gates? Or those meretricious praise that would echo, When all I remember is catastrophic derecho? Or the Olympus you promise with Canephor, While all I yearn is peaceful plains and zephyr. Or the victory parades in Roma you were storytelling, While those...

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Story of pat, Can you hear the sirens? The old mans values engulfed with burning lust of minors, Patrick’s family left in suspense & deprived, Waiting to hear news, if their son is alive. Peter 5:8 of the bible reads the devil walks among us, I have met him in a house on fifth street living just behind us, Across the road...

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1091 days. I remember having covid lying lifeless on my couch. There was no recent thought of you, as your presence within my life, I had already been without. I was in so much physical pain. I had no idea that spiritual pain could cancel that out, breaking, and weakening every connection from me...

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Life can be filled with much love and joy, what happen when people want to destroy? We each need to find our place, in the Howling Wilderness of space. Away from all the hurt and pain, where we can rest both body and brain. We can hear the wild animal sounds, taking us far from the evil peoples towns....

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Monday go away, I do not want to hear you. Let me sleep in peace today, it is not your day. Hear me-Not On A Monday, I need a three day weekend....

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Rest was a luxury black people weren't granted Something we wanted But couldn't afford it Our survival was more important Constantly looking over our shoulder Wondering whilst we're walking If this is our last moment Internally we ask Are we going to be murdered ? This for us is a daily burden Being tired is a privilege we don't get We can feel tired But we are...

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This morning I woke up with a migraine It happens, but today, with each day just harder because of grief, even the headache seemed worse. I took all the meds I could and went back to sleep for a time it helped the headache, but I am left feeling tired and overwhelmed when I heard a small voice saying "rest...

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Through the forest I go, to a world I do not know. Blue dragon guards the gate unicorn ensures good fate. Through the forest I go, adventure on me bestow. One, two, three, rock fun, four, five adventure begun. Through the forest I go; time is magic and slow. Come pause for a time, memories enchant minds. ...

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Nothing is heard, but the gentle breeze Breeze that whispers over the deceased Trees bow their branches with deep respect For those that lie in cemetery beds. The green grass is tended graciously For mourning of friends and family To find healing that lessons their grief And helps those grieving to find some peace. Flowers adorn the beautiful place Chosen with perfect...

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The bugle sleeps, a mournful, hollow sound, As silence falls upon this hallowed ground. For those who fell, beneath a foreign sky, Who gave their all, for freedom, and to die. A moment's hush, for hearts that ceased to beat, For dreams unfinished, victories incomplete. For green fields, now stained with crimson red, For voices still, and...

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Inspired by Bob Dylan's 'Blowing in the Wind' Our journey takes on different roads we make our choices and our beds no rest for the weary till we're all dead Time is not our faithful ally its intentions waywardly dubious yet fate lays here in our hands Don't pretend you can't hear the many cries they're right outside your door blow the whisle sound...

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If, within the silence, you begin the play once more, If, even with a fine performance, you can no longer catch the essential lines, If, driven by life's anxieties, no matter what you do, an unwanted play is staged within your mind, If, to shield yourself from it, you try to guard with noise, increasing your friends as a form of defense, Even if the theater fears the days...

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