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Lyric Easter Poems | Lyric Poems About Easter

These Lyric Easter poems are examples of Lyric poems about Easter. These are the best examples of Lyric Easter poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry | |

ONCE AGAIN THANK YOU

I was just trying to remember the past
 trying to remember the good people
 and the bad people,
 that i came across on my way,

i want you to know
that you are among the good people
 that left a good trace in my life,

once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.


Details | Ballade | |

Sea impression

                 
                 Wave a sea softened
                  and a pain and a tenderness
                   throw dreams in fascination
                   of the blue.
                   And let shave the waves of
                   Your eternity , oh, weigh
                    above me,
                    oh,weigh a  coast of years.
                    Carry far in azure, spiral
                    ships,
                    with bulging little abdomens,
                    flutter with mahagony pinions
                    and already in vain  expect you
                    to stop the scales harbours 
                    with hot flames for You are
                    open.
                    Far away, far away ,far away,
                    stretched string,
                    heart and frank await the 
                    hymn of June.
                    All sea sisters are dressed in
                    mother-of-pearl garment
                    embroidered of kiss of 
                    eternity. 
                    In the morning hunts them
                    fishermen and revive with
                    breath of their man’s hands.
                    In the evening girls wash 
                    their black tunics,
                    in their blue hearts,
                    their feet white ,who cadge
                    heavy chains.
                    The night is squeezed enigma
                    and ugly,
                    predatory like a bat pecking
                    of scarlet fig.
                    Sea sisters, sea sisters,
                    remember His steps 
                    which go through you noiselessly,
                  and ou swing like
                  bloody wine-
                 hold in His fingers Herod,
                 Pilate washes his hands,
                in Yours heirs
               and they bristled like winter
               icicles bristles of innoncent blood .
               There at Golgotha 
                hearing terrible cry,
                blood gushes like
               wounded river disappear
               like Easter roses,
              in weeds of flushed 
     preditory crowd,
     to open way of
     saving.
     Who is He?
     Do you heard 
     His name ?
     He is Messiah,
     God’s anoited
      Jesus Christ.
      Like little sheeps,
      clouds of candy floss,
      they welcome festivaly.
       Barefooted are feet 
      of lovely swarthy steps
     of the sun, came to bow,
      before You , Creator.
      The sea throws his 
       magnificent silver flesh,
      blue like heavently lace,
       to swallow all stars 
       only Bethlehem’s
      stays inextinguishable,
       pretty like uncreated
      like an apple of not 
      born girl.      


Details | Lyric | |

I Wonder

I wonder what the people thought
Who did not know the prisoner's name;
So many men had staggered by
In public solitude and shame,
What was He more than other men
Who'd walked outside the walls to die,
And those with tears who followed Him--
Do not most dead leave some who cry?

I wonder what the children thought,
Who just a few short days before
Had waved palm branches in the street,
Crying, "Hosanna, to the Lord!"
Why was the kindest man they knew,
Who understood their ways and needs,
Bearing a cross through Jerusalem
Like those who did unrighteous deeds.

I wonder what the soldiers thought
Who rudely mocked a silent king;
How many flogged and tortured so
Had never spoken anything?
Was only one of all who stood 
On guard for Rome to watch Him die 
Able to say with contrite heart,
"This is God's Son; He did not lie."

I wonder what the women thought,
The ones who would not hide in fear
But followed even to the cross
To watch him die through veils of tears.
Did they not know that He could take
Their dreams safely through death with Him
And on the third day rise again
Triumphant over death and sin.

I wonder what we would have thought
In our self-righteous ignorance;
What role would you or I have played,
If we had known such circumstance?
Would I have been a Pharisee,
Or just a stranger passing by,
Herod, Pilate, a Roman guard,
Or a Mary on the day Christ died?


Details | Lyric | |

Quiet

Moments of quiet unfolding:
Quiet probing my spirit's depths, 
Like a rose, petals unfolding
To drink in the dawn's sweet breath.
Quiet like the peace that lingered
O're the waters the Master stilled;
Quiet that in the tomb trembled,
Pregnant, waiting to be fulfilled.
Quiet that marched on the victor
Robbing death and defeating sin;
Quiet that stood in the garden
And shouted, "Christ risen again!"
Quiet that is the cloak wrapping
God the Father, Spirit and Son,
Before whom life's vulgar turmoil
Surrenders her tongue and is dumb.


Details | Lyric | |

Your Rose

Lord, I would be like Your own sweet Rose
When underneath the world's vain rush
I have been bruised; a wounded thrush,
Whose song is trapped within its throat,
Who cannot lift to voice one note
Its weary head and sorrow knows.

Though I be trampled 'neath the throngs
Of grasping, pleasure seeking souls
And waves of pain high in me roll,
I would be crushed in silence, deep,
That even my inmost soul would keep
And whisper not of how was wronged.

But ever, as with vengeance black,
They tramp the petals, limp and torn,
Would send forth fragrance, sweet and warm,
And bless the feet of that mad crowd,
Beneath their onslaught remain bowed
And by Your love turn hatred back.

It was Your wounding, sacred Rose,
The fragrance of Your love for me
Blown by the winds of infamy
Down from that dark hill, Calvary,
That brought Your passion home to me
And feeds the flower which in me grows.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Kitty and the Bunny: An Easter Song

"The Kitty and the Bunny" is a children's song, sung to the tune of "Pop! Goes the 
Weasel".

'Round and 'round the dogwood tree
Kitty chased the Easter Bunny,
'Til Bunny tossed an egg
That broke Kitty's leg;
And Kitty cried, "This game ain't fun-ny!".

Bonus activity: Give children some crayons and paper and have them turn this poem into a comic strip. Tell them you would use four boxes for your comic strip: one showing Kitty chasing the bunny, the next one showing the bunny tossing an egg, the next showing kitty holding his paw, and the last one showing tears streaming down Kitty's face. But, tell children they can use as few or as many boxes as they like for their comic strips and even change the storyline. The dogwood tree becomes an apple tree and bunny is seen pelting Kitty with apples. Perhaps squirrels join in the fight and start throwing acorns at Kitty.


Details | Lyric | |

Tree Sorrow

Earth's trees are pruned; men came and left
Upon their branches burning scars;
Now their arms are piteous stubs
No longer reaching for the stars.
My heart is wounded watching them,
So public is their grief and loss,
Their shame exposed, yet mute they stand:
I think of Jesus on the cross.


Details | Lyric | |

I Walk in His Garden

When I was a child, I expected lots of toys left by Santa Clause on Christmas Eve.
And planned to find an Easter Basket with candy and colored eggs every spring.
The Tooth Fairy visited when I lost baby teeth; all of those things I did believe. 
I had no idea fantasia spread around by people to whom my love did cling.

When I was a teen, I began to dream a scene, eagerly awaiting my adult vista.
A boy and a girl in love, each firmly trusting the future with hopes and naivety,
Anticipating passion while cutting paper hearts decorated pink and fuchsia.
Aspiring to have a good husband, lots of money, education and a family.

When I became an adult, I struggled to find myself, my faith, my own viewpoint.
Possibilities were endless, chance and fate stepped up to life’s plate.
Decisions, sometimes blind and difficult, intruded; life had no checkpoint. 
Gradually, childhood plans mutated; soon, prospects and dreams abated.

In time, I found that in the process of aging, possibilities are still endless.
Life and dreams function, not by probability, but by goals and decisions.
Achievement came at last, by finding focus and goodly principles; God is ageless. 
My inner soul rejoices in freedom, with burdens lifted, I pray...in His garden.

© January 30, 2011
Dane Smith-Johnsen


Details | Lyric | |

The Passion

The Passion They called it “The Passion”— His passion for lost souls; Crucified and murdered For so called religious goals. Christ’s passion for the hurting, Tempest-tossed soul; Sacrificed His earthly life; Man’s eternity His goal. Chorus The Passion and the cross Is a story to be told, Until this world ends And judgment unfolds. A carpenter turned preacher With no sword in hand Was led to His death By Judas’ evil band. Taken in the evening From Gethsemane’s garden; Hung from a cross That we may be pardoned. To be cruelly beaten Without human reason; Mocked and spat on In a prophetic season. Made to wearily carry His instrument of death; A heavy wooden cross; Laboring for breath. Crucified with wood and nails, The objects of His trade, Because He preached His Father’s love; His Passion was forbade. Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2012 Featured in my Easter Poem’s Book published 2012 www.maureenlefanue.com


Details | Lyric | |

Song of the Troubadour

A troubadour came by my house;
Beneath my window he did sing.
I'd never heard such melody
Or listened to like lyrics ring.
He sang a song I understood,
A song of love for me alone;
And , gazing through the latticed frame,
I knew that I would be his own.

The haunting strains, they wound their way,
Even before I could resist,
My heart was bound by cords of love;
Forever to his song I'd list.
"I long to follow you." I cried,
"Fair, wand'ring minstrel, gay and free;
I want to be your gypsy bride
And sing sweet songs of love with thee."

He bade me follow with a look--
A look my tongue cannot describe--
So tender that my heart leaped up.
"I'll follow you! Oh, yes!" I cried.
T was then I saw, just as I turned 
To go with love forevermore,
What I had thought a laurel wreath
Was but a crown of thorns he wore.

The robe which from his shoulders hung--
It had seemed spotless, white as snow;
But, then I saw it stained with blood.
Yet, still with him I longed to go.
His feet and hands were bruised and torn;
"Oh, who had wounded one so good!"
Just then I saw the lute he played
Was but a rugged cross of wood.

"Oh, Love!" I cried, "Dear, fairest one,
Who dared to harm and hurt you so!"
And then I heard the song again...
"It was for you; did you not know?"
"For me? I do not understand;
T was just today I heard your song."
He turned to speak what now I know.
"My love," he said, "I called you long."

We sing the song together now;
Each day is but a new refrain.
Yet, still I marvel when I hear
A note of joy wrung out of pain.
I did not know when first I heard
His music calling to my heart
That love is not triumphant
Till wounded, pierced and torn apart.


Details | Lyric | |

My Easter Prayer

~My Easter Prayer~ You came into this world A tiny baby A king who needed no crown Here to save all sinners A natural born leader You lead by example Lived what you preached You love all Never judge a soul Healing the sick Feeding the hungry Bringing peace and joy You never turn anyone away Watching over us Even to this day You are a good listener You guide us on our way In troubled times You are always there To carry us through Like “Foot Prints in the Sand” Sometimes we may stray Yet you are still there Ready to embrace us Loving us all the same When we ask for help You give us what we need It may not always be what we ask for And we may not always understand Yet it works out in the end You know me inside out I feel you with me No matter where I am I Love you so much I know I don’t say it enough In this life I have been blessed With many more blessings to come I know While at times I ask for so much I have forgotten to say two simple words That says so very much So here I am right now to say Thank You Lord With this My Easter Prayer Love Always, Jean Bonella


Details | Lyric | |

The Celebration Of Easter

Easter felicitations to everybody 
Calvary greetings to the brethren 
Greetings from him who journeyed to the cross 
Greetings from him whose blood was shed 
Calvary greetings from the throne of grace.

The blood of the lamb who was sacrificed 
The blood of him who is spotless of sins 
An atonement for the sins of all mankind 
For our sake he went to the tree on Calvary 
For our salvation he was crucified on the cross. 

We celebrate his death and resurrection 
By his death our sins were washed away 
By his resurrection eternal life is given 
He so loved the world that he gave his life 
For this he came down from his throne.

He was reproached and humiliated though Innocent 
He was forsaken to the cross by his own 
Nails piercing his hands and feet to the cross 
In his pains he was cajoled and ridiculed 
With passion and love he bore a shameful death. 

His bodily temple destroyed and he was buried 
Death he defeated and rose after three days 
He ascended into heaven and sent us a comforter 
The risen Christ is alive yes Christ lives forever 
At Easter we rejoice and commemorate his Victory.  


Details | Lyric | |

AN EASTER HYMNODY

We sing a song of Easter praise
in Hallelujahs raised,
of thankfulness for grace-filled days
with lifted hands,always.

We witness today,His good news
on a tree,slain for us,
rememberance of His stripes and pain
in that death,we live again.

A Comforter,for one and all
empowers,if we call,
close by,at hand,within us now
as,in worship,we bow.

Far and wide,these truths we forthtell
in our joyful hallel,
these songs of Easter praise now heard,
we tell the Gospel word.





Details | Lyric | |

Infinite Bridge

The sweet Lamb of God
was born to be the bridge
spanning the gulf between destruction and peace;
I can only cross safely
because He paid the price,
demanded by justice for my soul's release.

Chorus:
No mountain was ever higher
than His cross of agony;
no gulf was ever wider
than the one crossed for me.
His steps never faltered
as Christ carried sin's load,
all alone
to atone
up Calvary's road.

His arms formed a bridge
between heaven and hell,
stretching so wide to bring deliverance by grace.
His arms carry me surely
across the deep divide;
His blood paid the ransom my sin to erase.

Chorus:
No mountain was ever higher
than His cross of agony;
no gulf was ever wider
than the one crossed for me.
His steps never faltered
as Christ carried sin's load,
all alone
to atone
up Calvary's road.

Bridge:
Infinite bridge,
Incarnate Lamb,
Jesus Christ Savior,
the eternal I AM.
I can only cross safely 
because He paid the price,
demanded by justice for my soul's release.

October 8, 2014


Details | Lyric | |

HOW THE WOOD STORKS BROKE MY HEART

Afternoon, late March, delivering promise 
of respite from errands, long lines at the post office, 
queues of cars at red lights, what, if anything, is in
the offing for supper.  A glass of wine is nice, will soften
the mind's noisy dissertation, news of unrest in 
distant lands, world hunger, and men on South Africa's
Wild Coast who believe raping small girls will cure 
their AIDS.  For respite, I turn to the wood storks 
and two world-class pines, sending perfect drifts of straw 
and symmetrical cones into the protective lake-growth 
ornamenting edges with a scrim of airy viridian: birth-
right of sea birds needing evening asylum.  Now, 
there's an unwanted invasion of enormous jaws, taking
no prisoners on a battlefield of buzz saws. Machetes 
fell pines, artless shrubs and perfect palmettos that greedy 
landscapers treasure to decorate the yard-scapes of 
costly homes.  Development, New Construction?  Words-- 
glamorizing rape of wetlands. The birds are flying out, 
now, from across our lake, where once in heart-
stopping numbers, they bivouacked against the arrival 
of night. This day, this hour, they take wing, bird 
by bird in a ghostly exodus, taking their "Reflection 
of nearly all light from all visible wave links," whiter 
than masses of lilies on an Easter morning.  O, 
lost blessing, these birds, taking healing 
and our hearts in their exodus.


Details | Lyric | |

It's Easter

Woke up this morning, in my home all alone
Set up your picture, in the hall by the phone
I glanced at the kids faces, hanging there on the wall
Dropped to my knees and prayed, there in the hall

I looked out in the yard, through the kitchen window
Saw white and yellow tulips, blooming beside our broken home
And there on the table, set the empty Easter baskets
Oh! Now my heart is filled, with all of my regrets

Today the sun is shining down, on the yard so bright 
The grass is all new, looking so fresh and green
Oh! darling It's Easter, It's Easter
Last night you packed and left, after our terrible fight
Oh! but darling, you have to know 
That those words, I didn't mean
Darling It's Easter, It's Easter

Now I'm standing here knee deep, in this bed of  flowers
As my eyes start to drop tears, down like April showers
Oh! darling I can't bare, being alone on this Easter day
My God  please open your eyes, and turn around today

I know now, that I've been taking you for granted
But if you come back, I promise I'll be the man you wanted 
For this is to be, one of the happiest days of the year
But darling you left because of me, and now I shed these tears

Today the sun is shinig down, on the yard so bright 
The grass is all new, looking so fresh and green
Oh! darling It's Easter, It's Easter
Last night you packed and left, after our terrible fight
Oh! But darling, you have to know 
That those words, I didn't mean
Darling It's Easter, It's Easter


Details | Lyric | |

Today is a Gift

Happy Easter Baby
Today is a “Gift”

My heart, it jumped a beat today when I answered the phone
As I listened to that familiar voice, I couldn’t help but feel at home
As we talked it occurs to me, it’s like so many of our days
The clock stops, the sun goes down, and time just flys away
I’m honored to be with you, on this “Special” day
You’re my Happy Easter “Baby”, and it will always be that way
I love you with all my heart, your love is so true
When you take me in your arms, and again it feels so new
I figured out when love is real, you never have to choose
To settle for less than what you have become, for now you know the rules
Always be true to who you are and listen to your heart
Then you and your soul will never be apart

This poem is dedicated to man that changed my life 
I am forever grateful for his love and friendship 
And for every moment of sad and happiness spent on our behalf
And for showing me what true happiness is all about

With Eternal Love & Respect, 

            Rosemarie


Details | I do not know? | |

Doing His Will

He died for us on Calvary’s Hill
Fulfilling His Father’s will,
But this was not the whole of his part
To turn to the Father all man’s heart.
It all began with his birth in a cave
But did not end with the life that he gave.
He taught by the life that he had led
Even by the multitudes that He fed.
He rose again on the third day.
The price of death He did pay.
He taught us then and teaches us now
To love each other and to serve how?
With all our heart, strength and mind.
In serving others joy we’ll find.
This Easter season let us do our part
To show we’ve taken His lessons to heart.
Praise Him in word and in deed and in act
And let no one ever forget the fact.
He lived for us and lives for us still
So let us be about doing His will.


Details | Lyric | |

Easter

Can you see the change? Can you feel it?
There’s something new in the fresh air.
Everything seems to be strange a bit.
It’s time when I can’t be in despair.

Nature wakes up with first greenery,
Longer days bring more hopes and sunbeams.
I appreciate this bright, spring scenery
And this time with new chances and dreams…

Good Friday talks about the painful story,
And allows finding a sense of that suffering.
This world learned of the greatest mystery.
I’m looking for the truth and I’m asking,

But Easter Sunday gives a replay 
To everything and beyond all doubt.
I am looking at the Cross and pray,
And hold back a silent, painful shout.

And I feel this invisible power 
Of the Easter time and of the Cross:
“I am not alone thanks to my Savior.”
And I’m quiet and peaceful – no chaos…