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 "...
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2013
The stones were silent on that day when Jesus rode to town
While cries of loud hosannas came from people all around.
Some said that they should hold their peace and tried to still their voice,
But Jesus said if they would stop, the rocks would then rejoice.
But these were not the stones God chose to lift their voice to praise,
And so the voices of the crowd continued to be raised.
Then soon this happy crowd became a mocking crowd that cried,
“Away with Him! Away with Him! Let Him be crucified!”
He trudged along a stony street, the heavy cross He bore,
His body bleeding from the wounds and crown of thorns He wore.
And these stones, too, were silent as He headed up the hill,
For they were not the ones to speak, nor was it yet God’s will.
Then darkness veiled the noonday sky there on that awful day
When Jesus was left all alone, His Father turned away.
And as He spoke those final words, an earthquake shook the ground
And some were raised to life again from gravesides all around.
The restless rocks so wanted then to speak with their voice,
But they, too, then were quickly hushed, for they were not God’s choice.
They took the Savior from the cross unto a borrowed tomb,
They placed a stone to keep Him there and all seemed full of gloom.
This was a stone nobody thought would ever speak a word,
But after three days with a shout its loud, clear voice was heard.
That stone so silent all those years cried out upon that day
As with a thunder on the ground it loudly rolled away!
That was the stone that God had chose to cry to everyone
They could not keep that body there--He was God’s victorious Son!
That stone cried out that glorious morn, it still cries out today,
“The sting of death, the curse of sin is taken all away!”
That stone speaks of the one who died and went to hell for me
And conquered Satan and his foes and now He holds the keys!
That stone still cries to you today, oh listen to its voice,
Come to the Rock of Ages now--make Jesus Christ your choice!
Copyright © Clarence Billheimer | Year Posted 2014
My dear friend Happy Easter to you !
May this Easter blessed with love , joy and happiness.
With love Maxima
Suddenly, you trembled, my darling
As if craving to turn a fluid wave
A magnificent wave that
Overwhelms the endless spaces
of our hearts
And, I, my dearest,
I feel pure joy
Dazzled by this feeling
The endless tender kiss
Has formed a magic circle
The source of our being
Somewhere among the stars
Of the brightest constellation
I love you
Copyright © Stefan Maxima | Year Posted 2015
King of Kings,
And Lord of Lords.
And He shall reign,
Forever and ever.
Are these not the words of Christmas?
Did Jesus lose Sovereignty after His birth?
Do we just forget this through the year,
Does the Son of God lose His worth?
The Christian Faith lives in a Person,
Not just an accepted creed.
He was born, lived, died and arose from the dead,
This is the Christianity we need.
Christ is the personal, Living Center,
Of all things we believe.
He remains the Church's Sovereign,
His resurrection saved you and me.
We know the enjoyments of this life,
The pleasures that come our way.
But the Christian belief within us,
Helps us make it through the day.
Christianity is more than a history,
Of ancient writings told.
It is the very source of truth,
That comforts when we are old.
We are different Christians than our parents,
Who lived a life so true.
They gave the love and knowledge,
That would guide and comfort you.
We are challenged to pass this message,
A belief in God and His son.
So that our children may know and learn,
He truly is the one.
This Easter is a reminder,
Of the Christmas message brought to all.
It took His Death and Resurrection,
To save us from the Fall.
RAYMOND V. MORGAN
Copyright © Raymond Morgan | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2009
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.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2009
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.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2009
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.
Copyright © Alyssa couture | Year Posted 2011
its a prade
that don't fade
crowed streets or near
Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
this is a picture of an actual Kingdom Hall
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.
Copyright © charles hice | Year Posted 2008
over the oceans from whence we came
amid war and random bloodshed
struggles a people as noble in name
as the men and women by which they're led
they are the Jews, and how they suffered and why
when their actions in antiquity brought salvation
had Jesus not bowed to be hung, and to die
our God would be merely a distant relation
He taught them, fed them, and gave of His heart
they argued yet listened, scoffed and still praised
then Pilate, seeking an end, made a new start
Christ was tornm from His life, and today He was raised
Easter is very much more than a rabbit with eggs
more than candy, sales, and succulent ham
the Lord died in pain amid societies dregs
crying,"Forgive them their sacrifice of this Holy Lamb!"
"For they know not,
they only follow,
through what they have wrought
My Grace they will know."
in the Holy Land, there is hatred and fear
in darkness they search for a light
let them, and you also, know He is near
God is watching, His love burning bright
though i am only a man, born in sin
and He is far away, it often seems
i know that as of today, He lives again
not a concept, or a product iof desperate dreams
He is the Giver, the Creater, and the Defender
He is the Strength, we find when we need
He is the source, of all that's gentle and tender
through every dark deay, He will quietly lead
though a man be cursed
through His will he may see
by resisting the worst
we may love, and feel, and be free
not of sin
not of care
not to win
but to share
on the day of Christs rebirth
through little effort or thought
i may again proove my worth
sharing the Love that i myself sought
happy Easter, to everybody the same
let's take a moment from the busy day
to hear, and savor the sound, of His name
to hope, think, and even to pray
in my frail, and grateful place
i stand still and give Him His due
His is the Presence that leads to Grace
so even this flawed vessel, can become anew!
[ ...so seek His Son, who died to save
unlike us, He didn't have to fill a grave
and yet He came to us, to live and teach
and then to die, and rise up from Satans' reach
can you imagine Satans' fearful surprise
when he was faced with the Power, of his Prize?
Christ is Mercy, Love, Deliverance, and Understanding
yet with all the Power of God commanding!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Copyright © solomon storm | Year Posted 2010
it had to fall
for us all
so we could begin
he died for our sin
he raise his head
for all our blood is red
its for me you too
and boy and girl
EASTER FOR THE WORLD
Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012
A different kind of rest was forthcoming.
But first, captives had to be released from
Hades and led to freedom.
But first, the bloodied and pierced radical
From Golgotha had to demand, not request,
The keys of death and of hell.
But first, the dine of demons in the devil’s banquet
In the regions beyond, had to be broken up; hell’s
party had to be reeled into a frenzy of disgust; and
Satan’s parade had to become a shattered disappointment.
But first, as the devil and demons rocked and rolled in hell, the Christ of Calvary rested on Saturday’s Sabbath; not home yet, but somewhere alone until Sunday.
And then! On Resurrection Morn, hell‘s scorning , the laughter of the beast, and the mourning of saints were compelled to cease! Messiah’s new message was born.
Friday’s stone was gone!
Saturday’s rest was done!!
The Temple’s curtain was torn!!!
It was shouting time on Sunday Morn!!!!
Copyright © curtis johnson | Year Posted 2016