Sunday School Poems | Examples
These Sunday School poems are examples of School poems about Sunday. These are the best examples of School Sunday poems written by international poets.
There’s a farmers market near campus.
A young couple has a pizza oven on a trailer.
They make a breakfast pizza - bacon, mozzarella
some egg and green peppers. It’s SO crispy and delicious.
ALL I had to do this morning was say “breakfast pizza!”
and six of us were ready to head out fifteen minutes later.
Let’s wax poetic, shall we?
There are some young ladies who live in a dorm
sometimes it seems like they only have studies
but once and a while on a Saturday or Sunday
if we have our druthers, we get out, in swarm
and find ourselves some pizza-like brekkie.
.
.
Songs for this:
PIZZA by Oohyo
Le Breakfast Club de Paris by Gabrielle Chiararo
Palm branches waving,
symbolizing the coming
of eternal love:-
Rebecca was three years old when Isaac took her for a wife
Nineteen years later, no children, but still pro-life
Finally pregnant, Rebecca’s joy was short-lived, with twins inside
tossing and turning tumultuously in the embryo of Isaac’s bride
Rachel heard of this and learned her lesson
Meeting Jacob at age five, her brother Laban said: ‘No messin’
Seven years (and one week) later, they finally got hitched
Thoughts of kids at five, ‘unceremoniously’ ditched
I was in the hospital at only five,
the medicine gave me a big hive.
Sunday school taught us to be alive,
my spirit soared and wanted to drive.
When I was seven I got really sick,
they gave me ice cream to lick.
I loved warm soup with a cheese breadstick,
my spirit loved it and soared with a big kick.
Now older with aches and pains yet wiser,
my spirit soars like a heavenly geyser.
We learned the books of the Bible in order when young
Almost nigh impossible to do, not really any kind of fun.
The Sunday school teacher was named Mrs. Marrs.
Rewards she gave us were those sticky tiny aluminum stars.
Was it worth it? You ask me.
It was at the time.
I had no idea they hardly cost her a dime.
Now I dream of these stars sometimes in my sleep
They are poured onto my brain and I do not make a peep.
Remembering how much I wanted them at one time.
When we could get things that only cost a mere dime.
His life as risky as a goldfish swimming in a bowl
As a bunny living with momma in a rabbit hole
Never crossed a street without looking both ways
An angel in school, drawing teachers' praise
One morning he awoke in a cold sweat
His trusty alarm clock he'd forgotten to set
School would start in less than half an hour
Without a balanced breakfast, his future looked dour
So he skipped the meal, threw on some clothes
Caught a bus without fanfare or fuss
But as he got closer and closer to school
He saw it was Sunday ~ Was he Mr. Cool
I startled awake, early Sunday morning,
fraught - my mind, darting like a panicked animal
because my assignment calendar
is wet, smeared and illegible!
Total darkness - I fish for my phone by it’s cord - it reads 3:08am.
I flop back onto a cloud of thick, memory foam.
Ahhh, jeeez, it was just a DREAM.
Of course, my assignment calendar
is safe, digital, redundant, cloud backed up.
“THAT was a little morbid.” I think,
as I drift back out of consciousness.
They restricted celebrations,
forget your relations.
They restricted travel,
watched families unravel.
They restricted purchases,
no provided services.
They closed the schools,
those were the new rules.
They closed the churches,
no Sunday soul searches.
They closed the gyms
and the flab begins.
They closed the restaurants,
forget sweet tooth wants.
They closed the theaters,
no full-length features.
They closed retail stores,
no welcoming doors.
They closed the bars,
murmurs of wars.
Society accepted it as well as they could,
as everyone felt the need to be good.
But then they closed the brothel –
an act so heinously hostile –
What? You call that a plan!
That’s when the fight began.
Homie hoppers are all over the young adult Sunday School Class
Five couples, and they have all been married at one time or another
To at least two other people in the class.
It is the weirdest dynamic in the world, but it is what I have to work with.
There are so many knowing looks and inside jokes.
Lots of laughter. I have never taught such a class.
I am eighty-two years young, and have learned to keep my mouth shut.
Never referring to “your husband” or “your wife” or even “your partner”
for things change so swiftly.
First birn of eight,Henry Heinz by name
Brought the common bean to worldwide fame-
In business,he kept his faith alive
Renown for the brand,fifty-seven
Eternal remembrance,now,in heaven
Sharpsburg born Henry Heinz (1844-1919).
Long-suffering shattered the window’s streaked pane
Tongue snapped like rubber band stretched beyond hell
Deep shards of blood pressure, jagged terrain
Fingernails screeching down slate boarded cell
Tongue snapped like rubber band stretched beyond hell
Cat-o’-nine-tails lashing words into gashes
Fingernails screeching down slate boarded cell
Sunday school lessons reduced to ashes
Cat-o’-nine-tails lashing words into gashes
Razor sharp chaos impervious to shame
Sunday school lessons reduced to ashes
Virtue out shadowed by rage's bright flame
Razor sharp chaos impervious to shame
Deep shards of blood pressure, jagged terrain
Virtue out shadowed by rage's bright flame
Long-suffering shattered the window’s streaked pane