Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Perfect love casteth out fear
Trust your angels - always near
Love can guide each daily deed
When you fill another’s need

Love inspires our downcast hearts
As love soars - our fear departs
Pray your love abides steadfast
For only love will always last

Kindness, healing, mercy too
Flow more free - with loving view
When unbidden fears appear
Replace with love, in every sphere

No matter what our ill or ail
Perfect love - will never fail
Love endures eternally
Love is true prosperity
This is Prosperity Poem 104 at and you can see it displayed on a beautiful background (copy and paste the link below).
You can sign up for free weekly delivery of poems at Prosperity Poems (.com)

During this interesting time on earth, I encourage you to remain stable, hopeful, loving, and helpful.  We can all do our part to increase the life of another - and our life will be blessed in return.

The first line of this poem is "Perfect love casteth out fear", which will be familiar for many of you.  Those words come from 1 John 4:18 - King James Version.  I did look at many other Bible Versions also - as sometimes you can gain meaning through different word choices.

Love inspires our downcast hearts.  Let your love soar - so fear departs.
pa3que Nov 2020
a tendency to move around the sphere,
overhauls once inner sadness.

one has planted the seeds of laughter,
on a graveyard overgrown by reeds.

now observing them despair as
flames emerging from a sweet wine glass.

sipping on it, like a hungry child,
finding its way out of this social experiment.

indulging guilt, now as i stand,
on the velvet lace of passed times.

finally they told me to inhale wrongs,
exhaling passion for others to feed on.

no being with a heart still beating,
not i, nor you, nor the sphere itself,
should give oneself up to vagari of others.

exhale only for what melts its heart,
as a chocolate with honey melts into one's taste.
Jordan Gee Oct 2020
MySelf to pieces split and cleaved,
o'er the grave he stood bereaved.
When salvation seemed so close at hand,
he saw confusion in the plan;
Two halves of One he must retrieve.

The Seven Lights he sought to find,
suspended east-ward in the sky.
When once or twice he, free of fear
spied his heart out chasing deer;
he knelt - trembling before the lie.

Breathing slowed - the flowing saddle
in which he rode, abreast Death's rattle.
The numbers upward, did he climb
from six to seven, eight to nine;
symbols of a timeless battle.

In purgatory now I wait
for Flame of Hell or Heaven's Gate.
Strange personalities within vibrations,
a Cosmic Gong to heal Death's Station;
I stand my ground - I forge my fate.

Wherefore art thou Chariot I ride,
that which I've been given, hidden by the sky?
A Sphere of Mirrors w/ no sides,
into my tear of fire doth collide;
A temperamental Horse I ride.
what it feels like to wake up
The Great Sphere is the higher, the between and the lower,

The Great Sphere is the highest of realities, the balanced universe and the lowest of primeval type universe,

The Great Sphere is with the highest form, the living beings of matter and spirit in the balanced universe and the unbalanced primeval universe,

The Great Sphere is within the highest man stood on the moon, the man of matter and spirit stood on the moon, and the primeval man stood on the moon,

The Great Sphere is True Life itself, it is life and death and utter death,

So the Great Sphere is all things, higher, between and lower.
Bullet May 2020
In this world of miss opportunity
I can barely sing in this atmosphere
I’m living in this world where reflections are used as fear
Im look all around till I see through these spheres
Everyone is ready to throat cut the melodies of my soul
The world revolves and evolves even through flaws
So when I’m living out my dreams I’m not going to be just sleeping
I’m all around

I’m a sphere in this atmosphere
Fear is now my melody for flying
The world filled with mirrors and I’m now dressed in tunes and dreams
My voice is now the soil of my soul
Choking up the air that once held me in horror
The devil and the lord are just passengers in my flight

In my fight with spheres and mirrors
I’m pursuing dreams and pictures
Paintings and boxing rings pump fear
Broken glass, I can see many reflections
The big picture here in the spheres and mirrors
Can’t depict the world in which we’ve all created
Bullet May 2020
I’m looking at life as a sphere
The easel escapes what’s boxed in

These eyes all have their own view
These squares just try to mirror

The birds keep calling my name
The soul in me just ignores

Imagine them as squirrels
Easy but never to ****

The flowers I’ve been growing
Show that the soil is the one that’s really richer

A masterpiece is all I’ll ever chase
Until then I’ll reach for the skies that color all around
Fheyra May 2020
A mutated earthling—
From an elitist experiment—
Burst with thorns and limbs,— yet too little to be seen,— That struck mines— Into landslides.

Through and through,— to species and things
A coast to coast hunter— that becomes a Gremlin *******,— and thrilled by a prophet, foretold—
"A ditty hatband to put in flute,— is a note of sphere bullets."

For the meantime, hear the Chieftain's announcement:
"The folly is the naked; as the prudent is the masked—
No one should be phlegmatic in this game,—
For all of you should be sensitive— Unless, if you want to be an elsewhere's feast
Do not act— like a pearl with a great price!"

Soldiers cluttered in passageways,— For Pirates are Ubiquitous thieves
An assemble of frontiers hosed and geared— of wrought bodies— with uncertain prone.

In this war, together—
Barricades of water and bricks— Our chances to be unleashed,— From a long concealment,— To be sooner conquerors of intruders' exile.
Covid-19 is a current situation in all countries. The prevalence of this disease has an uknown end, but with our discipline, and the brave hearts of our front liners, together we will be free.
annh Sep 2019
Neither to imagine inarticulately the moon,
Nor to articulate unimaginatively the sun,
But to scan the celestial sphere for sublime inspiration: the poet.

‘I think our lives are surely but the dreams
Of spirits, dwelling in the distant spheres,
Who as we die, do one by one awake.’
- Edgar Saltus, Poppies and Mandragora
Next page