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Easter Prose Poetry Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Easter

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

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Details | Prose Poetry |

The ' Hoppy Ban '


So sad..Hopping in and Out of one' s life....

It's Peter Rabbit for Pete's" sake...

He comes by each and every year...

For this they say we should fear ?

Just to share a Spring holiday ?...

He's a horrid creature, so they say...

He has big ears and a cotton tail...

And sometimes he even carries a pail..

Full of candy, and colorful decorated eggs...

This day is between Valentine hearts , and Green Beer kegs....

He's rarely ever seen...

And has never ever been mean...

So why are all these American States...

Having all these holiday debates ?..

I await my basket filled with a chocolate kiss..

I only hope his picture does not end up on...

The Post Office " 10 most wanted list "...





Details | Prose Poetry |

A Perfect Day

Friday had been the saddest day
That my young life had ever known
The loneliness that my heart felt
Just would not leave me alone

The clouds that filled the afternoon
With their darkness and their dread
Left remorseful feelings alive inside
Along with feelings that seemed so dead

On Saturday when I did awaken
My world was much worse it seemed
For the gloom and darkness it embraced
Left my mind aloof in sad daydreams

Of what my eyes had seen to transpire
On that dark, cold Friday afternoon
I only prayed and hope what was written
Would come to fruition so very soon

As the last twenty four hours ticked away
The hope in my heart did begin to rise
For it began to beat so steady again
Waiting for the prophesied moment to arrive

But many in the room praying around me
Saw their faith begin to slip and fade
Not believing that what was happening
Would be much more than just another day

My heart awaiting the time to come closer
Anticipating the joy it would soon receive
Felt the rhythms of the approaching moment
For deep within it never failed to believe

I heard the most beautiful enchanting melodies
Embracing me from deep within His tomb
And upon hearing the hearty voices of angels
I sensed He would be rising so very soon

And the last twenty four hours did finally end
Sweeping my sadness and loneliness away
Replacing it with pure joy, and happiness
For He rose from the grave on a perfect day.


Details | Prose Poetry |

Nugget Twins

Does anyone have an Easter chick?
We have four, a rooster and three hens
Named Junior, nugget, chirpy and twin
These bitties love to snuggle and watch TV
They have taken me for their mom
The rooster likes to be a daredevil
He will run right up to the dog and tempt his fate

The KFC commercials make them cry!


Details | Prose Poetry |

Easter Egg Thrice

This is mye Easter Sunday. This is the LORD Jesus Christ is Risen day and EGG day and 
Bunny day all rolled into a dry mourning in the homeless sack. A religious holiday day. 
Today eye found the secret of creation there is color added just to stones the rocks around 
us there is JESUS shades of blood permeating the stratus zones around us. Some quartz 
near eye today was strangley coloured in the mourning light some almost purple some dark 
red some a lighter almost white but gray slate is almost pink in early desert light. Perhaps it 
was just a fancy for eye was looking for delight in such a small desert spaced out place a 
mosaic there of the SON of GOD uncovered now for all the world to read about in EGGPoem 
thrice. Happy Easter Ewe on this wonderful Easter Sunday Sunrise penned in Notebook for 
Easter Egg Thrice.


Details | Prose Poetry |

Portrait of a Water Lady and I

 
There she is, rainbow hued, hazy viewed clues.
The whistle chimed waves clear her unspoken throat.
Pardon Lady's wispy tension, a molder of falling sand. 
A maker of details form the reality of dreamlife.
It is not man-made, it's spirit. 
From one withheld, on a roof full of heating. 
It's the heart vision, it's her only heart vision, 
The only seer of the whole. 
The sea dragon's bucket of snails
make it through the tunnel portal,
and we all gather through.
There Lady then goes, 
off to the Wizard's shell. He's cloaked in 
red and white, the colors of woman and man.
They're both pleading, seething,
 kneeling beside the shelled faces.
 Sparks, that near cover her wreathed, flowered, dress of sea flowers.
As iridescent pyramid easter eggs rain down.
Armored in bright lace, the rhythms of twirls and braids shall 
claim pertinence to the deep blue whale's song, the whale clothed
in water, salt, and Lady's most hidden dreams.
A Wizard Whale's Lady, protected with beauty.
Zero point with no ego, no confession to claim.
The breathed memory between her salty fingers
lights a candle to rebirth her soul. 
Hello my little fellow,
long lost pearly weeping willow,
I've come to find my ocean.  
My voice adorned with sight.
I flew to and from her, a maker of undone.
She was veiled in white memory, 
a blanket of weight brushed off her.
A flaming moment floating in her watery hoping heart. 
Sunk under sun drenched waters,
 gazed shackles flew away.
Exceeding through three door frames,
not separate from the grey portrait of a sculpture.
Tightly knit and finely tuned,
 with heavy chisels of confirmation. 
I will spit if I have to, and then I will cry after.
For I will only listen to my bloody heart.
The emotions are blatant, the tuned in 
question that purge's forth, 
is more meaningful with an identity gone.
But we are never lost,
we are dreaming in the ocean's Wingdom,
the Angel's castle cloud held tight.
Love, 
Alyssa Couture


Details | Prose Poetry |

A Poem For You

Everytime I bring forth your image
From deep within the well of my mind
My heart begins shedding joyous tears
For your beautiful love that's mine

I can never escape feeling all the emotions
For they seem to overwhelm me each day
But just like the very first time I embraced you
The raging passion of my love will always stay

I was blessed the day you embraced me
That first moment you became my friend
And ever since your spirit held me close
My life changed as I was truly born again

You have never forsaken me a single day
Of the spiritual things which in life I need
And I love those very special moments
When your living word we together read

While I lift up my song of sweet love to you
Your daily showers of heaven's  joy begins
I humbly thank you for giving your life's blood
A perfect Easter sacrifice to forgive all our sins.


Details | Prose Poetry |

EggPoemIIToo

Eye came unhurriedly into the Ronstadt center walking unhurriedly for it is a Sunday 
Schedule on the Bus Sun Tran couple this with Easter and a holiday to boot upon the land of 
this renewed AmeriCa, may GOD in Jesus help mee eye forgive her; When to mye surprise 
delight a happy Easter eye surprised the EGG just laying there forlorn and forgotten from the 
Basket on a ledge where bus patrons sit and Gather dust just waiting for the buss there it 
was boiled and purple colored Easter Egg with White left interspaced and looking closely eye 
discovered some spattered mottley colors there none of them a primary some EGG childe 
artiste had created this created creation just for eye to find so eye peeled it carefully of shell 
but some color still remained on EGG transporting me back home to MOTHER and to Yard 
again while eating EGG a man now eye took half of it away with just one bite while eyeing 
yellow yolk inside a smile then one more bite egg was gone a swallow a lifetime 
remembered happy childhood was revisited all in one short moment of an Easter Sunday 
Suntran Bus day. On this mye Easter Sunday. 


Details | Prose Poetry |

EasterEggOne

 EasterEggOne 
EasterEggOne 
 
TheFalconeEGGPoemI 
  
For EWE Easter Sunday 
IN a series of three egg poems it stormed. It rained ICE into the desert there is still ICE 
there on the hill side in mye distance the stuff pelted my covers all night forcing me into a 
fighting crouch to stay alive eye resembled nothing lest except a baby falcone inside her egg 
before She hatches eye waited for the daylight coming trying to accept the fate of all 
homeless people when then the sun arose all around me long enought to let me dry mye 
things before putting toys away when the falcone come she sat her distance preening drying 
feathers twisting head just giving me theye theye theye she turns her head this way and that 
sort of drinking eye with heart and sight so nice it was to see mye falcone scrye. It cleaned 
mye heart of hate and once again renewed eye faced this Easter Sunday day. Iff this were 
not enought an added ancedoted ed.note.ed see charlaxfabels the falcon cry fable number 
one then continue on to egg poem too and thence to number three or egg poem thrice. 


Details | Prose Poetry |

1Hundred6

1Hundred6 
1Hundred6 
 
 
CharlaXFabels 
 
Easter2 
 
 
Christ Crucified. 
 
The Cross 
 They took him from the crowd apart and nailed HIM both hands and feet unto the 
instrument of torture the cross of Golgotha complete the scriptures had prophecy 
concerning this event to complete the salvation of all of man. The LORD of all 
creation hung and suffered ridicule and thirst and hunger of a different sort for 
Heaven he was thirsty then. They cast lots upon his garment. 
The prayers were hardly out left far behind when eye began to reap the benefits 
of health improved my finances of wealth increase can be explained away by 
fools but ewe we knoe the truth for JESUS gives. My target Heaven my wealth 
health and all my food my found and scrounged and Easter egged 2 all come 
forth from HIM. A Poor and sinfilled man quite given to the drink may lie and steal 
and say he found it near his drink he “assumes someone has left it there” is 
what he barks at the beertender the drunk outside may soon die from his 
concussions the man left near the bathroom door he took a wooden batted 
thatch knocked upon the drunken noggin put the man all out took from him his 
wealthy purse to pay just for one more night out seeking oblivion again to drink 
perchance to dream the detectives came to task the man for overall complaints 
the thief he muttered “HOW? did you know that it was me ,yes? HOW?”  Detective 
Fabel was on the case he was pushing by the place the alleyway and heard the 
cricket paddle whack the commoner went down he is bound to get better now in 
the hospice we have found for him but you will only get worse in the old 
hoosegow. The old banded man in the alleyway digging in the trash can has 
more hope than you as they take the thief away the scrounger finds a basket full 
of boiled eggs left there an Easter 2 colored all purple and white inside the 
yellow yolk looking like a big surprise the color of a dandylion sunrise. 


Details | Prose Poetry |

Jehovah Witness

 Jehovah Witness 
Jehovah Witness 
 
this is a picture of an actual Kingdom Hall 
Fighting Jesus 
 
Fable Fourteenth 
 
 Judgment Call 
Ode to Edgar A Poe 
Ode to be remembered with three red roses and a half a blanc of wine the 
certainty of summer in Ravenswood combines with sultry summer pines and 
odors of the firmament decay to play a mournful tune of odious deliverance. How 
can such playful creatures of this life become so dark at night time coming to the 
Earth to preach a GOD of everyone of Earth to say this world is pleasant when 
poor Edgar knoes it's not? He never seems to want for sympathy a poor man's 
plot is seldom visited the visitor is not out a lot the roses at three p the half a 
magnum drank he stank he must say some words at grave like Quote the Raven 
Eleanor never more have a drink old plank would anyone come and leave a half 
of soda and three small purple flowers on my grave? But reminisce about the 
meeting done they grabbed me by both arms but not before my head was 
pressed against the glass of double doors and tossed hurriedly away outside 
don't listen to the homeless one he stinks he sleeps in clothes unwashed how 
can anyone like that can knoe his GOD? Then eye turned a swollen eye upon the 
meeting place and did a little dance a little prancing just in place and cried Jesus 
hallelujah yes they threw me out of judgment hall please bless the place eye 
dance. Poor Edgar cannot prance. CharlaX loves his stance. Half a soda and 
three purple flowers every Easter on a poor place to stay someone reading this 
may do so to remember me this poet needs to be. 



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