Best 12 quotes in «inspirational poetry quotes» category

Alike to the heart When left without attention, Vines bear bitter fruit.

Bold and Beautiful are the words of truth that uplift the soul!

One day The Universe Will be pleased by The fruit of man's works Excerpt from: 'Jacob's Ascent, New Collected poems by Mekael' © Mekael Shane 2019

I don't write poems to melt your heart. I write them, so our hearts can melt together.

The Working Song by Breton Braley Oh, we're sick to death of the style of song That's only a sort of a simpering song, A kissy song and a sissy song Or a weepy, creepy, whimpering song. So give us a lift of a lusty song, A boisterous, bubbling, boiling song, Or a smashing song and a dashing song, Oh, give us the tang of a toiling song, The chanty loud of the working crowd, The thunderous thrall of a toiling song! Ay, sing us a joyous daring song, Not a moaning, groaning, fretting song, But a ringing song, and a swinging song, A rigorous, vigorous, sweating song. We have had enough of the gypsy song, Which is only a lazy, shirking song, So toughen your throat to a rougher note And give us the tune of a working song, A tune of strife and the joy of life, The beat and throb of a working song!

To him, she was like a flower that bloomed in the snow. Thriving under conditions in which nothing could grow. To some, she was a weed born benighted. But in his eyes, she was a wildflower with a soul ignited.

In your sky, you are the brightest star. Without you light, it’s dark like tar. So love yourself to enlighten others.

The little girl cries and you pass her a tissue to dry her eyes. She looks up to the sky time flies by and then she smiles for no reason. No she smiles because she remembers its her season. Her season; to rise.

Thus the sons of earth now drink in The fire of heaven without danger. And it is our duty, poets, to stand Bare-headed under the storms of God, Grasping with our own hand The Father's beam itself, And to offer the gift of heaven, Wrapped in song, to the people. From “As On a Holiday” (“Wie Wenn am Feiertage”)

Too long now things divine have been cheaply used And all the power of heaven, the kindly, spent In trifling waste by cold and cunning Men without thanks, who when he, the Highest, In person tills their field for them, think they know the daylight and the Thunderer, and indeed Their telescope may find them all, may Count and may name every star of heaven. Yet will the Father cover with holy night, That we may last on earth, our too knowing eyes. . . . Never will our Free-ranging power coerce his heaven. From “The Poet’s Vocation” (“Dichterberuf”)

We too, like trees can shake off our dead leaves and begin again.

When the door of Perception is wide opened in a human mind,he sought all the way around Universal Truth,let him understand,'whom to expect' and 'whom to Help.