Easter Poem
It's Easter let me praise his name first,
For he was burried in a tomb of stone and dust,
But on the third day He came to life atlast,
The angel rolled the stone; it didn't burst.
He was the only son of God,
He rode on a colt not a pod,
A spear was thrusted on His bod,
And His body was beset on shame by a horde.
He was crucified for our sins,
That's why we must praise Him with every means,
Preaching His Gospel from Cairo to Orleans,
Because it is on His scars our faith leans.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
