Visitation Poems | Examples

Missed By The Visitation Of The Lord

The sign of Jesus coming
Is like a woman's labor pain
The pain is interval in nature
Like every hour is in pain
Then in every thirty minutes
Then pain in every five minutes
Then it's time to go to hospital
To deliver the new born baby
It's like in the time of Noah
God reveal His plan to him
People live casually, incessantly
What's wrong with marriage
What's wrong with business
What's wrong with ambition
What's wrong with wealth
What's wrong is that they don't know
That the ark is already finished
The selected one just come in
And all the animals for proginy
And people they don't know
The visitation of the Lord to them
Salvation has now come to those
Who heed the call to repent and obey
Eternal life in righteousness is on the bow
For everyone who just made perfect.

Visitation Dream

She did not want to frighten him, for she had always loved him.
Should she appear in his dreams or next to his bed?
His eyes were closed, mouth wide open, snoring deeply.
A tiny giggle escaped; but he did not hear her.

She had never meant to leave him; surprised herself when dead.
Staring upon his closed face, she decided on a visitation dream.
He had not thought of her for almost a month when she appeared.
Her smile was brilliant, her arms outstretched.

It is you! He said, amazed that she looked so young and refreshed.
Death is life, she told him. The life you know is more of a death.

Love Visitation

Just love 
When our loved ones 
That have passed away 
Come to visit us 
In our most important days  
In a form of butterfly.

best visitation dream ever

I am being watched
feeling a presence I have not felt for fifty years
my father
best visitation dream ever

The Moon Visitation

Backdoor wide open
A cream moon is coming in
Softly, like a dream.
Beyond red sun, pearly rays
in a lazy, lilac night.

Howling wind whimsy
'midst the fantasy flowers
in plum, pink and green.
Silver moon, always welcome
lending silk beauty to night.

A Lucid Dream As a Visitation

I used to have a lovely mini-dog
who followed me wherever I would go.
Nobody in my family cared for him,
for only I he loved – that Eskimo!

Into my arms he’d leap when I got home
from having worked. He’d wait beside the door
and know instinctively that I’d be coming.
No other doggie could I have loved more.

It happened that I had to part with him.
My heard was broken, but I’d been assured
a “no-kill” policy protected him,
and always by someone he’d be procured.

A few years later, as I lay asleep,
I woke, and to my great amazement, he
was right there on the bed. I said his name.
Excitedly, my dear dog jumped to me.

I felt him in my arms; I rubbed my face
into his fur; I smelled and felt it too.
He was as soft as I remembered him.
My dream to be with him again came true.

I ended back inside another dream
with my small dog; and here’s what I discerned:
his soul had flown, but right as he had died,
on his way out – to me he had returned!

April 11, 2023
for Unseeking Seeker's A Wisdom Download Poetry Contest

Visitation

Dreamed about my mother
Who comes to me when I am in pain

Not to my reckoning through woo woo land
Otherworldly celestial plain

Implanted she was the first time
I was held warmly to her breast

As the antidote to what ails me
She comes when I am under test

In this dream of mine she was dying
We stood doing dishes side by side

With full acceptance she embraced what would be
In so doing helped me abide

With the fact to the swift the race
 sometimes not won

No matter our regret
The past cannot be undone

We live with what
We live with till we live with it no more

At dreams end I found I was dying as well
From what's never killed me before

In traditional Chinese medicine
 lungs attached to grief I'm grieving all the more

I grieve the loss of what I never had
An enigma yes that is my name

Made up in my mind or in  truest of flesh
I loved you all the same


My mama came to tell me this
I have mourned you unto death

The wailing has stopped and soon now the thoughts that arrive with every breath

It will feel so good when it stops hurting
The very words she said

To hear these words she came to mind
Resurrected from the dead

The Gentleness of a Visitation

Like a young heart, the sun outshines, 
    flirting with the billows of clouds, 
      leaving a gentle kiss on the blushing horizon.  

  Cry of mucking gulls above, 
    visit the no longer alone, white laced-topped waves;
      its bounty full, a romantic love  with morning gone. 

  A tern with its black hat, 
    near goldenrod, scattered in heaps,
      pecks on the length of the treasures of the beach.  

  The tuneful sound of the spring ocean surf,
    rolls in, touches my toes in a tease,
      then runs away giggling, but not for long. 

  Once again it rolls to chase me for a nip at my toes.

4/12/2022

Visitation

I don't remember if the invitation 
Came late at night or early in the morning, 
If I arrived by carriage 
Or if I made my way on foot 
To the palace entrance, 
If the royal guards escorted me inside or not, 
This I do not know. 
All I remember is standing before the King 
And listening to his furious words of condemnation, 
Words that weighed heavily on the hearts and minds
Of everyone present, 
Words that I dare not repeat outside the palace walls. 
Yes, I was there 
And I heard the King speak. 


            W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2021


             28/3/22. Partly inspired by Revelation 16: 1-2 kjv.

Ask For a Visitation Dream

People go along in their life and then bam. Dead. Deceased. Kaput.
Survivors sit by a headstone and talk to them. I am not kidding!
They are not in there, folks.
Their body is nothing. The soul is their essence.
The sitters are now spread eagle on the graves, sobbing.

What the what? Do they not believe in a soul? I am gob-smacked.
Curious, all those Sundays spent in church and they think dead is dead.
Sure, the body is gone; going faster and faster, turning to dust.
But what about the soul people?
Do you not realize the soul cannot die?

The soul is busy, rolling her eyes at your silliness.
Pay attention to the soul; she has gone on with her life.
The soul is real, more real than this flesh life ever was.
It was a shell, a suit, a costume. Get off the grave. It is nothing.
A waste of money even.

Your memories and photos are the real deal.
Pick yourself up and go home, where your loved one occasionally visits.
Better yet, ask them for a visitation dream.
Sometimes it is the only way to get one.

A Visitation Memory

One night my dear dog, a miniature Eskimo
which I’d been forced to give to a no-kill shelter a few years earlier
appeared as I slept. Waking, I saw him on my bed!
Into my arms he leapt! With joy and surprise I pressed
my face into his long white fur. I could feel him and inhale his scent.
Oh, it felt much too real to have only been a dream!
Shortly thereafter, I fell back into a dream in which
I wandered the streets with my beloved Ollyver.

I always wondered if that occurrence had been real.
I believe that we have spirits that go elsewhere when we die.
Though my experience could have been a dream inside a dream,
I prefer the explanation that because he had loved me so much,
the spirit of my little dog paid me a visit
on his way to another world, and he waits for me there even now!

Oct. 1, 2020
for "The Unexplained" Poetry Contest of Carolyn Devonshire

Visitation

I am hooked deep inside my cavern-hanging host
   replicating in cosy subterranean cell
   night-time radar feeding my needful innermost
   viral reservoirs overflow with gruesome gel

   I slurp onto scaly creature, grimly scuttling
   fissures unfold, revealing gory condominium
   caged meal within a meal, proximity shuttling
   re-absorbed, disturbed, unsettling equilibrium

   I emerge, swimming 'Trojan' in moisture flowing
   aqueous channel opening, internal organ-treat
   indulged, engorged, rapacious appetite growing
   coughed-up bipedal phlegm, damp cold air to greet

   I am scooped again, adjacent cloth, nearby skin
   bodies pressing, heavy breath, compulsive sneeze
   defences haemorrhage, weakened corpses grin
   death is killing me, wretched repulsive wheeze

   I seep through porous mask and sweating gland
   my time is spent, havoc wrought, no place to go
   anti-bodies gathering, hostile hordes at hand
   I am oblivion but still have many names to know

Visitation Time

Faint barks, evening, wind, and rain
I'm standing outside these gates again
staring at her long twisted cobbled grey 
She'll be pleading and crying for me to stay
Teary-eyed,.. as I start to shake

You see, it's my witching mother
Changing eyes, I remember
Each day a day in mid-November
The whiskey called "screams," and her flaking skin

Unrepentant and filled to the neck with gin
she just sat there laughing at my nervous grin
Those vile remarks and the things she'd say
Throughout the evening of every day 

"you must stay with me forever, petals
or I will bloody you with this iron kettle."

I cannot push myself through these damn gates

The fear of the,.. known I suppose
those wretched toenails all overgrown
feet that stink of death
Old graveyard graves crooked amber teeth
My dear mother, it's quite clear I resent you so
Why do I still love you, you wicked old crow?

October Visitation

October Visitation

A peeking orange smear
Talked to the lad inside his head,
When he was eight and nine months,
On a breezy October twilight in 1960,
As the orange light told him silently,
To go to the river's edge behind the red house,
To go there and see what it wanted him to see.
Night’s shawl of descending gray began its covering,
As the boy walked down the horse trail in the midst of chutes,
Volleying up green and yellow digesting rotting salmon,
With lurching trees swaying a little in the beckoning wind.
Upon the smooth stones he slowly trod in foreboding fear,
And there upon a large smooth stone he knelt,
Folding his hands as in preparation for the mysteries,
And then, the boy was compelled to gaze skyward with peering eyes,
And he saw it, a silvery flying thing, ethereal as sugar icing,
Hover above him, as the first stars exposed themselves like a pox,
And the lad prayed to this angel, 
This otherworldly visitor from the Iam,
There incredibly seen, on an obscure river bank near Redding.

A Prayer of Visitation

A Prayer Of Visitation
By: Tom Wright
3/98

As visitation begins this day,
as Spring has filled the air.
Guide me, Lord, upon my way,
to show others that I care.

Accelerate my steps, o Lord,
pray, hear my humble plea.
That as I share your word,
my thoughts remain on thee.

But candid words let me speak,
that in this work I'm not inept.
Though at times all may seem bleak,
my vows to you are not unkept.

When visitation this day is done,
please help me, Lord, that I may see.
Though at the door I was the one,
You had been there long before me.

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