After church
We collect the hymn books passing through the pew,
And look good, with grace to look for a little while,
Then we decide it’s time to leave the chosen few,
And take the journey for a mile with faded smile.
After church service benediction at last spring,
The welcome presence of another serenity fall,
We quickly part in heart from the praises we sing,
On roads converged, hardly a note we can recall.
We feel the food destined to eat, and the warm,
Taste climbs up for a pleasing trip into our lips,
Down the lane, leaving church feeding the brain,
With aromas tricks, temptation tried with many slips.
After church we forget home is another branch,
Lost in jest, caught in play, unseen eyes watching,
The rest of the day, and the eyes continue to watch,
Through the night and haunt the mind until morning.
poem by Gerry Legister
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Church Of Your Heart
Cant we leave the world outside
Just for a while? just for a while?
Spend some time, you and i
Under this bright glorious sky
Its been so long since I first saw you
But I still love that smile in your eyes
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you, that make me part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Step inside, lay yourself down
Just for a while, rest for a while
I can hear a thundering sound
Beating inside when youre around
Its been so long since I first met you
Since we made love, you know how time flies
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Pretty baby its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some Have Steeples. Some Don't
What do I think of church?
'Yes! '
Church?
Like in 'church' church?
'Yes! '
Well...
Some have steeples.
Some don't.
Some have people.
Some wont.
Some are religiously political.
And some are politically religious.
My vehicle is my church.
And that's all I care about.
'Oh?
So your 'car' is your church? '
Oh.
No no!
My 'body' is my church.
It is my sanctuary.
Now...
Keep in mind,
I am not devoted to keep it as pure,
As it should be.
But I do the best I can,
Not to be led away by temptation.
But everyday I pray to be forgiven,
Of those 'sins' I know I should not enjoy!
However...
You can find me anytime,
Self righteously defending...
My point of view.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Back (Before You Leave)
Can't we leave the world outside just for a while? Just for a while? And
spend some time, you and
I, under this bright glorious sky It's been so long since I fist saw
you but I still love the smile in
your eyes. Yes it's true, right from the start, I believed in the church
of your heart Step inside, lay
yourself down just for a while, rest for a while. I can hear a
thundering sound beating inside when
you're around It's been so long since I first met you, since we made
love, you know how time
flies. Yes it's true, right from the start, I believed in the church of
your heart. Yes it's you that made
me be part of and believe in the church of your heart. In the church of
your heart.
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song - The Church Hall in Drummore
She’s sitting down beside the wall
When the music starts to play
I’m walking slowly ‘cross the hall
And I'm lost for words to say
I know her name and nothing more
But there’s something in her eyes
We’re in the village of Drummore
In the Church Hall side by side
Some kind of spell falls over us
It's the nineteen seventies
We’re oh so young and lost for love
And we gently start to kiss
Her lips are soft; she holds me tight
And we’re seized by tenderness
But something took me off that night
From her sweet and tender lips
From time to time I think of you
In your village by the shore
And how the years so quickly flew
Since we kissed then touched no more
I caught your eye in Mill Street once
And we said a warm hello
It turned my thoughts to love and chance
In the church hall in drummore
(chorus)
I held you in my arms that night
A short and precious time
And you were more than you’ll ever know
So long ago dear in Drummore
Searching For a Church?
After your long and weary search, have you found the perfect church?
A simple church ruled by men; the perfect church you can’t condemn.
Or do they all appear the same, just another building with His Name?
And once inside you’re not sure, if you feel the presence of The Lord.
There’s only one true Church of God, upon this earth that all men trod.
That is The Church of Jesus Christ, and bought by Jesus, with His life.
God’s Church has no denomination, for in Christ is only one Salvation.
His Church has no walls my friend; it has a beginning but has no end.
Christ’s Church began at Pentecost, not for the righteous, but the lost.
His Church is made of sinful men, whom by God were all condemned.
But redeemed with a special price, when His Son became a sacrifice.
Then dipped into a cleansing flood; sinners purified by Christ’s Blood.
Are you looking to men to find, God’s forgiveness and peace of mind?
My friend, are you truly not that sure, where you can go to be secure?
Christ’s first Church had no steeple, and was filled with humble people.
Humble people who gave their life, to reach the world for Jesus Christ.
If you’re still searching for a church, you should end your weary search.
The Church is men like you and me, saved by Christ’s work on Calvary.
Nothing’s been added to the cross, except sinners who once were lost,
Since, they’ve entered in The Door, and now belong to Christ The Lord.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
I know at my church a lot of the times we sung from hymn books and as we got older we started to change with time. I can honestly say that I was never influenced to write for the church.
quote by Charles King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Is A DJ (Edit)
This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
It's a natural grace
Of watching young life shape
It's in minor keys
Solutions and remedies
Enemies becoming friends
When bitterness ends
This is my church (x3)
This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
It's in the world I become
Contained in the hum
Between voice and drum
It's in the change
The poetic justice of cause and effect
Respect, love, compassion
This is my church
This is where I heal my hurts
For tonight
God is a DJ
God is a DJ
This is my church (x3
song performed by by Faithless
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Contemplation Rose
Puerto rican nursery rhymes
Angels in the snow and thyme
And Im keeping my mind on that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
Got watchtowers and awakes for free
In the laundromat for you and me
But you cant take me down that way
As Im not sinking
And if we go down one time
Next times not gonna be the last time
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
Didnt I bring you precious gifts
Came to kiss you on the lips
Didnt even appear
To beg your pardon
To lay out in the morning sun
Feel the cool breeze and the one
Right there in, in my garden
Puerto rican nursery rhymes
And angels, and angels, and the snow and thyme
But Im keeping my mind on that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
Yeah, and if we go, if we go down one time
The next time will not be the last time, and im
Keeping my mind on that, contemplating that rose
Up in a church in spanish harlem
And if we go down one time, you know
The next time it wont be the last time
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating, and Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church in spanish harlem
And Im contemplating that rose
In a church, in a church in spanish harlem
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Faded Memories
I saw you in only a dream
you were there next to me
shining bright through the night
like rays of sunshine in the morning light
and on your lips a taste of paradise
as if heaven was all around me
You had a sparkle in your eyes
like diamonds glittering in the sun
and a smile on your face
you were always such a beautiful one
But as I held my head low
I could only watch you slowly go
said it just had to be
now you must set me free
walk away from this forgotten place
there's nothing left to save anymore
And like faded memories torn and frayed
love was forever lost it would seem
as I walked on alone
felt I been here once before
with these faded memories we once made
tears turned my heart into stone
when I knew you were never coming home
Was a time I needed you as I watched you leave
through those years that passed on by
thought I could never forget you
and all that we been through
still I find it hard to believe
how this love for you will never die
(spiritwind-2010)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Matter of Trust on a Summer's Day
Jane's mother said
she was up by the church
and so you went up
the path leading
to the church of St Mary
and there she was
laying some flowers
on a gravestone
she looked up
as you approached
and smiled
your mother told me
you were here
you said
I think Mother
must like you
she wouldn't
have told you
otherwise
Jane said
getting up
from the graveside
and brushing her hands
on her summery dress
who are the flowers for?
you asked
looking at the flowers
placed in a small jar
on the grave
a parishioner
we used to know
who used to like
this type of flower
oh I see
you said
looking at the graves around
and the Downs further back
and the trees nearby
where did you want to go?
you asked
how about a walk to Cocking?
we can do some shopping
while we're there
and enjoy each other's
company in the process
is it far? you asked
a mile or so
she replied
ok
you said
and you followed her
down the path
and along the lane
to her house
and you waited outside
while she went inside
after a few minutes
her mother came out
with her and said
it's very good of you
to go with Jane
all that way
I wouldn't like her
to go alone
that's all right
you said
and she smiled
and went in side
and Jane said
see she trusts you
not many boys
around here
she'd say that to
oh right
you said
looking at
her dark hair
and her eyes
gazing at you
and her hand
holding a shopping bag
and her lips
breaking into a smile
come on
she said and
so she took
your hand
and you walked
along the lane
keeping close
to the hedgerow
the sun warm
and the sky blue
and you sensed a joy
of it being
just her and you.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Answered Prayer
i said a love prayer, but no one was there to hear
so i climbed into my bed
just so that i could rest my aching head.
i fell asleep right away
and flashes of love in my mind did play.
i saw a figure floating down to me
my eyes strained hard so that i could see.
the most beautiful sight i had ever saw
was knocking at my hearts door.
she said: you have asked for love in prayer
and you will get it- this i swear.
this love that you seek
you will see in a week.
i responded: are you an angel?
she smiled and said: how did you know!
she touched her back and
out sprouted her wings.
my eyes began to flutter
my heart began to sing.
for i had finally found
the perfect everything.
i awoke that morning wide eyed and refreshed.
and feeling at my very best.
it was sunday so to church i would go.
the church bell rang and we started inside
when i felt someone bump me on my side.
as i turned- there she was
the angel that came from above.
'i'm sorry' she said and gave me a smile.
now you can guess how this story ends.
she became my lover, confidant, wife and friend.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Return To Nature
Suppose I am one who has a big ego I did have big plans once I do recall
But egos are a thing that inspire in us the need for success and are part of human nature after all
And now that my ego is a bit deflated and others I don't feel need to impress
Something perhaps that came with the realization that my life never has been a success.
Still I am one who finds solace in Nature and Nature the only God of which I know
I've always marvelled at her strength and beauty and still my admiration for her only grow
I had a church God when I was years younger but I gave my unseen church God away
And I returned again to Mother Nature and in her bosom I will rest one day.
The free born birds that sing in Nature's garden each species is distinctive by their song
And the fox that hunts for rabbits in the paddocks these creatures all to Nature's World belong
And the wedge tailed eagle soaring in the calm sky a very large and fearless bird of prey
Too is a part of Mother Nature's World and in Nature's bosom this bird's bones too will lay.
The swallows fly to warm climes in Winter and return home to greet the warmth of Spring
And chase insects o'er the valley where they first saw daylight and as they fly one hear them chirp and sing
How they can find their way to a far Country in late Fall and in the Spring find their way home again
Is something for which scientists can offer theories yet somehow seems beyond them to explain.
The World is quieter in Mother Nature's World for man made noise to Nature doesn't belong
On sunlit tree beside the rippling waters the thrush in Spring is singing all day long
And Nature she presides o'er all her Seasons and she has seen so many Seasons come and go
Her flowers of Spring and Summer and her brown leaves of Autumn and her hills of Winter wear white hats of snow.
I do not worship false Gods any longer and I returned to Nature years ago
And though Mother Nature has so much to teach us so little about her I seem to know
Yet I feel happy to walk in her garden and along the bank of her quiet water way
'Twas an act of Nature brought me to this World and I'll return to her bosom one day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Someone's Mother
Someone's Mother trails the street
Wrapt in rotted rags;
Broken slippers on her feet
Drearily she drags;
Drifting in the bitter night,
Gnawing gutter bread,
With a face of tallow white,
Listless as the dead.
Someone's Mother in the dim
Of the grey church wall
Hears within a Christmas hymn,
One she can recall
From the h so long ago,
When divinely far,
in the holy alter glow
She would kneel in prayer.
Someone's Mother, huddled there,
Had so sweet a dream;
Seemed the sky was Heaven's stair,
Golden and agleam,
Robed in gown Communion bright,
Singingly she trod
Up and up the stair of light,
And thee was waiting - God.
Someone's Mother cowers down
By the old church wall;
Soft above the sleeping town
Snow begins to fall;
Now her rags are lily fair,
but unproud is she:
Someone's Mother is not there . . .
Lo! she climbs the starry stair
Only angels see.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If You Forget Me
I want you to know one thing
You know how this is
If I look at the crystal moon
At the red branch of the slow autumn at my window
If I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log
Everything carries me to you
As if everything that exists - aromas, light, metals
Were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me
Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you
If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
Remember
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land
But, if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me
With implacable sweetness
If each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me
Ahh my love, ahh my own, in me all that fire is repeated
In me nothing is extinguished or forgotten
My love feeds on your love, beloved
And as long as you live, it will be in your arms without leaving mine
song performed by by Madonna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If You Forget Me
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists:
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loveing me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
poem by Pablo Neruda, translated by Donald D. Walsh
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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No Humour in Heaven
There shall be no humour in Heaven,
Trumpets of angels shall sound
from morning till noon,
This I tell you,
Dont let any one fool you.
Parsons needs converts
The Church of God must prosper,
Bishops in regalia of mayors,
chants and rants like parrots: Tender thy offerings,
Forget their suffering,
I mean the ones who are hungry,
It matters not from where
you got it,
Christ is forgivin',
He shall accept it,
He is in waiting for thy money,
give generously,
Lest Heaven withholds thy blessings.
Is this what the Church tell you?
Take a second look,
refuse to be fooled,
The Church is now a business venture;
Our God is never in need of your
wealth or money,
He has all to His means in Heavenly
Legions of angels at His bid and
calling,
Your service should be for humanity,
I mean the ones who are hungry.
The Church is beeing overrun by
managers
They're a bunch of deceivers,
Don't tell me of religion,
I know where to find my God,
As long as I keep to His love,
He shall forever live in my heart.
With that being said;
I have no more in my head,
I have said my mind and satisfied,
So my verse comes to an end.
poem by Efe Benjamin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Vagabond
Dear mother, dear mother, the Church is cold;
But the Alehouse is healthy, and pleasant, and warm.
Besides, I can tell where I am used well;
Such usage in heaven will never do well.
But, if at the Church they would give us some ale,
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We’d sing and we’d pray all the livelong day,
Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray.
Then the Parson might preach, and drink, and sing,
And we’d be as happy as birds in the spring;
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.
And God, like a father, rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant and happy as He,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Experience (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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November Night
Across the wet november night
The church is bright with candlelight
And waiting evensong, (2x)
A single bell with plaintive strokes
Pleads louder than the stirring oaks
The leafless lanes along. (2x)
It calls the choirboys from their tea
And villagers, the two or three,
Damp down the kitchen fire (2x)
Let out the cat, and up the lane
Go paddling through the gentle rain
Of misty oxfordshire (2x)
On country morning sharp and clear
The penitent in faith draw near
And kneeling here below (2x)
Partake the heavenly banquet spread
Of sacramental wine and bread
And jesus presence know (2x)
And must that plaintive bell in vain
Plead loud along the dripping lane?
And must the building fall? (2x)
Not while we love the church and live
And of our charity will give
Our much, our more, our all (2x)
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The next to last pew
An old man was at church last Sunday
He sat in the next to last pew
I slid into the seat right next to him
And gave a him a friendly “hi-dee-do”
He gave me a nod with his time worn brow
Then swiveled his head all around
While his gaze sized up the parishioners
His ears seemed to soak up their sound
His sad gaze seemed to pick out each person
One by one, as he seemed to stare into their soul
To some he nodded, in an approving way
While to others his look was ice cold
I asked if he was a member of this church
I said I wasn’t familiar with him, was he new?
He smiled a soft smile and shook his head no
Said “I’m here most of the time…
here in this next to last pew”
I said “what do you think of our little church”
He rubbed his hands through his hair of silver grey
Looked deep in my eyes and gave a soft, sad sigh
And said “you may not like what I have to say”
He said “ Son, I can see into the soul of these people
And to you, what I say is on the level”
That Most are fools in the eyes of the Lord
The rest are pawns in the hands of the devil
I looked all around at my fellow church-goers
Of whom he spoke, I knew of more than a few
And when I turned back to allow “that could be so”
I was all alone in the next to last pew!
poem by David Whalen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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