Best Easter Poems | Poetry
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New Easter Poems
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by Gentry, Susan
by Dust , Pixie
by Moorman, Curtis
by Johnson, Joyce
The Easter Egg Hunt
by turner, roger
by Dutta, Anisha
by Lee Sr., James Edward
Happy easter bunny day
by QUIGLEY, CHRISTOPHER
by Roper, Eve
by Gauthier, Line
View all new Easter Poems
The Best Easter Poems
On the day our eyes open to the prism of the sun
On that day, Winter solitude would be gone
The avalanche of differences melts into nothingness
Through the same breath,through the same soul
We would live again as one ,no matter who we are
No matter the colour of our skin,Gay or straight
rich or poor,innocent or once found guilty.
No matter if We are lawyers,prisoners,doctors or pheasants
No matter our political believes ,nor our different religions
A catholic,a muslim,a buddhist , a hinduist,or a jew .
On that day,we would all wear identical dresses
We would all be the significant other ,because He has died,
and He has died for all. Jesus died for Peter,John and Judah
for Lazarus and Maria Magdalene, Jesus died for me ,
He has died for you ,for him ,for her,and even for them.
He gave up till the last drop of blood and painful cry
for each and every name engraved upon our Father's palm.
He was born to die,but its not his death that we celebrate ,
We celebrate His life ,because we believe in life
We celebrate His forgivness ,because We experienced
the beauty of forgivness ,the happiness ,the return of blissful joy.
and , We celebrate the ever present love
Because it is the gift of love that He bestowed on us
Jesus was born to die , but He was born to rise
Upon death He has risen , through His death We survived
Because of Him , in the darkness ,in the labyrinth of our night
There will always,always be the little flicker of a candle
that fills our hearts with hope ,and warming light.
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015
I followed you from Galilee
To that sad day on Calvary
Of love You spoke
New hope You woke
Some said I was a prostitute
In me You saw no ill repute
My heart now cries
I watch You die
Sharp spikes that pierce Your hands draw blood
And through my heart emotions flood
A Son so blessed
Is laid to rest
Three days I stayed outside Your tomb
Never to see You I presumed
And though I mourned
I genuflect and watch You rise
To join Your Father in the skies
This blessed day
Showed us “The Way”
The sacrifice You made for man
Celebrated in many lands
Give thanks and pray
Written in the first-person view of Mary Magdalene, one of Christ’s best known
disciples. According to modern religious scholars, the Gospels of Mark and John say
she was the first person to see Jesus after he rose from the dead.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
You speak to me in tongues
I hear you with my heart
I feel you with my mind
Like a Spring bloom, I am slowly unfurling
Like a ripe plum, you taste me in my rhymes
You touch me black ink injected drug potent
Red Poppies between lines
I sense you in your dreams
They are swelling next to mine
Like a drunk, I swallow all your delicious words
You turn into endless Golden Chalices of Altar Wine
I see you through your mirrors
COMMUNION - You see me, walking now through mine.
the sharing or exchanging of intimate thoughts and feelings, especially on a mental or spiritual level.
"in this churchyard communion with the dead was almost palpable"
the service of Christian worship at which bread and wine are consecrated and shared.
"Communion was celebrated once a month"
synonyms: Eucharist, Holy Communion, Lord's Supper, Mass
"he believed in Christ's presence among the faithful at Communion"
3. The Bible
5. Scientific Explanation of How the Image was formed on the Shroud of Turin.
6. The Spirit, The Blood and The Water
6e "The Truth Adds Up"
"The Golden Way", David Sylvian (Lyrics)
Copyright © Leanne Lovejoy-Burton | Year Posted 2018
Thoughts of Infinite Light
Thru no beginning and everlasting end, the loving light shall transcend
The Angels of illumination shall defend its passionate passage to extend
From within infinitesimal space, the internal light will forgive and reface
Like a perennial parallel interface, your digital soul will eagerly embrace
For when the darkness sets in its divide the light of love shall provide
In your attempts to segregate and hide look within the light will guide
Your sins and shame shall regress as you absorb the fruitful fluoresce
For when you repent and confess the living light shall blissfully bless
Thru eternities of illuminating light His love will never leave your sight
Thru absolute abyss and fevered fright comfort in His love and erudite
In man's dominance dilemma a need for pensive penance and excreta
Look upon the Alfa & Omega the Lamb of God of infinite light the Pieta.
~~~Let there be light~~~
...dedicated to Victor Buhagiar...
Sponsored by: Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2018
They were forgiven
for what they did not know they did
Yet unlike those men
I am aware He bled
My inner being convicted
by the things He said
Knowing the truth
that Jesus rose from the dead
Still down wrong pathways
I continue to be led
Instead of reading the Good Book
my mind with preoccupation is fed
Instead of praying
all day and before bed
With insignificant thoughts my mind is wed
Past present and future
can’t be escaped, trapped in my own head
You serve me Holy wine
and with believers let me break bread
Life is just my piece of the pie
I get just one slice
sure at times it’s nice
Other times it’s a fake paradise
I ask others for their advice
how do they resist
the allure of things that entice
Fast cars women or dice
are they men without vice
Do they think clearly once
when I’m confused each time
more than twice
For many mistakes I’ve paid a price
Will Jesus thaw through my conflict
releasing this heart
That feels encased in ice?
I look at my son
blessed by my wife his mother
Giving thanks for both
to my Heavenly Father
Still why oh why do I fight with my brother
Relationships are so complicated
sometime I wonder “should I even bother”
Deep seeded feelings of anger dishonour
I pray “Jesus please take my weakness
You alone can make me stronger
Shape me like clay
for You are the Potter
Lead me on the path
of your sons and daughters.”
Still my heart grows weaker
maybe even harder
For I live in the fear
God has forsaken me
Am I meant to be
a branch on His tree
I long to clearly see
To have Him fill all the parts
that feel empty
deep down inside of me
Will Jesus protect me from myself
I am my most considerable enemy
Is the wise dummy poet a priority
What words will He speak into me
Can I read between the lines
words written to set me free
or are my answers lost to history
a pretend to be happy misery
an isolated kinda cold conspiracy
Only Jesus can reveal to me
who He made me to be
Jesus knows my inner thirst
I long to make Him first
Yet so many times
the choices I make are the worst
As I surrender to Jesus
I feel the transformation
Like a dam repentant eyes burst
I know I am God’s forgiven child
no longer cursed
My thankfulness real
no longer rehearsed
Jesus satiating this inner thirst
with His Love I am nursed
baptized and immersed
What I lack Jesus finishes
I’m blessed by putting God first!
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018
in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heart worms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the weeds,
till the jewels of memories soothe
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
Copyright © Anthony Slausen | Year Posted 2013
Tears of joy streak down
My dust covered face
As I just wandered by and witnessed
The utmost glorious grace
Just three days ago
I watched them crucify
The son of God himself
The man called Jesus Christ
They poked him with their spears
Wet his tongue with a vinegar sponge
Nailed him to a tree
And taunted “you’re not God’s son.”
He hung there ‘til he died
From his side water did drop
They buried him in a tomb
Where today I had to stop
Past three days the door was covered
A large stone placed there that day
But, today as I walked by
An angel rolled it away
He had kept his promise
Only 3 days would he lay dead
To forgive us all our sins
And, I believed in what he said
He glided out of the tomb
As if floating in the air
“Do not be afraid” he said,
With gentle love, and care
He represents new life
And all the wounds he can heal
Is Easter day your resurrection?
Can Jesus Christ be your shield?
I weep to think of the pain
He endured for you and me
So he could take away our sins
And one day, set us free!
By: Miranda Lambert
For: Gwendolyn Rixs’ contest: What easter means to me
Copyright © Wandering Butterfly | Year Posted 2011
A is for Annie Apple Blossom she buds in the Spring.
B is Betty Baby Breath she's such a dainty thing.
C is for Miss Candy Tuft pink-cheeked with hair of gold.
D is Debbie Dandelion who never does what she's told!
E is for Easter Lily she's as white as snow.
F is Francie Fairy Bells who ring-a-lings where she goes.
G is for Ginny Gardenia perfumed oh so sweet.
H is Holly Hocks a Tomboy, she has two left feet!
I is for Inca Lily dressed in colors light.
J is Joanie Jump-Ups, Johnny's little sister bright.
K is for Katie Kangaroo Paw her nails are painted red.
L is Lila Lady Slipper who stays too long a bed.
M is for Merry Morning Glory dressed in pale blue.
N is Nancy Narcissus who trumpets ""toodeloo!"
O is for Olivia the Ox-Eyed Daisy dolly.
P is Patty Petunia, her pancakes are a folly.
Q is for Queenie Anns Lace her dresses all have ruffles.
R is Ruby Rose-a-lee who almost always shuffles.
S is for Sandy Snap Dragon tall and thin. petite.
T is Tallulah Tulip her clothes are so off beat!
U is for Uma Umbrella Flower, sweet and sunny.
V is Vicky Violet she plays with Easter bunnies.
W is for Wendy Water Lily she'd rather swim than dance.
X is Xana Xmas Tree in Winter she's entrancing.
Y is for Yani Yarrow, a girl so bonny fair
Z is Zelda Zinnia, she pinning Yani's hair.
All our girls are fine and strong, so beautiful and brave
Not a single one of them would think to misbehave!
Bio: Wise woman.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2013
Hand in hand, we fluttered like two butterflies
among the fragrant flowers of the field
and meandered, singing songs, along a stream.
No agendas to keep to; no schedules to curtail
the pure pleasure that we took
in consuming every lovely hour of our Saturday.
With our picnic lunch, we sat down on a blanket.
Later we lay looking up at clouds.
Transported to the wonderland of our imagination,
we named them fluffy mountain ranges,
bunnies, sheep, and Easter lily petals
until they morphed into lopsided bearded faces,
huge white polar bears and cotton-breathing dragons.
Unexpectedly, the clouds grew dark, and suddenly,
we saw and felt large raindrops splatter on our skin.
We fled our happy field, arriving home - two children,
wet and laughing, just as the spring shower let up.
How were we to know in the springtime of our lives
that the field and the rain from which we fled
I’d one day write about as metaphors for youth.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
The Way of The Cross
Our Jesus is condemned to die
Oh, Savior, now from Earth you part.
You do not sigh, nor do you weep,
Though our sins have pierced your heart.
Dear Jesus bears the Holy Cross,
Our Savior of all humankind,
For us, you start this journey now,
Still endless love for us you find.
Our Jesus falls beneath the Cross;
So dreadful now to bear this pain.
Dear Jesus, when we fall in sin,
Please help us rise up once again.
Our Savior meets his Mother dear,
Mary, anguished and depressed,
Please help us face our sorrows too…
Live up to all our trying tests.
A man named Simon of Cyrene
Appears to help our Savior’s plight
To lift the weight of his great Cross…
Lord, burden us to spread your light.
Veronica wipes our Savior’s face.
Look now! His imprint there to stay!
Please on our souls your imprint make
And help us keep it there, we pray.
Dear Jesus falls down on the path,
Again now for the second time.
But soon he rises to go on,
Lord, help us up to stay in line.
Our Jesus meets some women now,
They kneel down to mourn and weep.
“Weep not for me,” He says to them,
“But for your children, the lost sheep.”
Our Jesus falls again, this time
His journey's nearly at an end.
Dear Jesus, when we fall in sin,
Please grant us wisdom to amend.
Our Lord now stripped of all his clothes—
This torture is so sad and cruel.
Please, Jesus, strip our souls of sin,
Our hearts and souls you always rule.
Our Jesus now nailed to His Cross—
Your death, dear Lord, is very near.
Sweet Savior nail our souls to you,
And grant us grace to have no fear.
Oh, the dreaded Crucifixion!
Our Jesus now so humbly dies,
While all the sins and sins to come…
Are placed before his tear-filled eyes.
Our Lord is gently taken down,
In his dear Mother’s arms is placed,
Oh Mary, Mother of our God,
Help ease our sorrows to be faced.
Now, Jesus placed within his tomb,
To rise again on Easter Day—
Redeemer of all humankind,
With us forever you will stay!
Oh, great day of Resurrection!
From tomb he rises up to sky,
With all God’s angels by his side
He joins his Father up on high.
Oh, great day of Resurrection!
He rose again on Easter Day!
Redeemer of all humankind,
With us forever you will stay!
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Contest: Death and Resurrection of Christ
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
Three crosses stood still that faithful day
As the skies sadly wept a guilted grey
On the highest hill they would be seen
By Roman ruled eyes that did demean
The middle cross covered in rustic red
Where the calamitous Christ’s blood sacrificed shed
The lachrymal lamb dies for our shameless sins
As the whispering winds wind and the sky dims
The christened cross made thus Divine
For the Christ awaits Ascension to His Holy shrine
The weathered wood of dogmatic Destiny
Dexterously dismantled while bereaving blessedly
The Christ carefully put in a timeless tomb
With His Loving Light creates a new womb.
A Happy Easter
Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2016
I gather images of Easter's sign,
bouquets of varied thoughts and memories:
emerging crocus, budding branch, and vine,
the flutter of the robin in the breeze.
Symbolic, too, the lily, pure and white,
new chicks and bunnies, butterflies galore.
The fading, icy sting of winter's night
replaced by spring's warm day, long waited for.
I contemplate each image and I know
the thrill of surging hope that swells my soul.
New life, from dormant seed, will rise and show
how spring joy resurrects from winter's dole.
A new beginning blooms for man and earth,
for Easter promises her gift...rebirth.
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
now stuffed with sweet eggs,
her kids sit, well-groomed, in church -
Not a bad hare day!
For Skat's EASY Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017
I don't get to church on Easter.
I'm so sorry that it is true.
I make the big Easter dinner
With my guests more than quite a few.
The egg hunt is in the morning
When children's energy is high.
I keep one eye on the egg hunt
And one eye on the baking pie.
When all the eggs are found, it is
Time to cook the twenty-pound ham.
If the children cry they're hungry,
I bring out the bread and grape jam.
Twenty-six guests at my table
This Easter of twenty-eighteen,
This is lots but it's not the most
That my Easter table has seen.
This was my ninety-ninth Easter.
In July, my one-hundredth year.
We are throwing a big party,
I am hoping you'll all appear.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2018
Easter will again be here and very soon,
But Easter brings sadness I cannot seem to prune.
After my Mother left, Easter's not the same
Since our Lord, to bring her home, called upon her name.
Easter this year in two thousand and eighteen
Will be even harder, I cannot contravene.
For my little girl, who's not so little any more
Will spend this Easter far away, on a distant shore.
So many memories of Easter though, will decorate my brain,
As I turn back the clock, letting all share the reign.
All the Easter baskets and the Easter hunts so fun,
Each memory I dust off carefully, every precious one.
I'll watch the Ten Commandments, keep our tradition true,
Remembering Easter's true meaning, Jesus is why we do.
When God Sacrificed His Son, what a Sacrifice He made,
For through the Blood of Jesus, our sins for, He paid.
When I think of God being stricken so with profound grief
To watch His Son suffer on the cross forbidden of relief,
This brings to mind surreally the magnitude of pain
I'm unable to comprehend and my tears I can't restrain.
For I think of my daughter and all those overseas,
Who put their lives on the line without guarantees
They'll come home safe and sound when their tour is done
And also, all the families who've lost a dear, loved one.
I know this is not the same but I more so realize
And I am humbled so profoundly as I can't visualize
The cost of God's Sacrifice because God so Loves us all
And to my knees it brings me, for I can only God, extol.
Easter 2018 - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer
Copyright © Artsieladie Sharon Donnelly | Year Posted 2018
The blood you shed for us on the cross my Lord today
The world that we live in seems to be ready it to betray
© Demetrios Trifiatis
29 March 2018
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2018
the pearls from your eyes
are far more precious to me
than any treasure
your big sacrifice
nothing more to compare with
you’re my great hero
I owe you my life
mom, my heart melts when you cry
your tears: pearls of love
that’s the greatness of your love
in you, I feel God
mom, I’m so sorry
sometimes, I make you lonely
but you’re dear to me
you bear all the pains
pearls of great love on your cheeks
every drop, I’ll kiss
for I do believe
you want only the best for me
all your pray’rs and wish
thank you so much mom
those pearls of great mother’s love
be kept in my heart
you’re my only mom
replaceable by no one
comfort and best friend
my ardent prayers
may you live long in this world
may God gives you strength
March 24, 2013
This poem was conceived both from the “Pearl” theme and one of my possible adorable picture themes of my latest contest, “Mother’s Love”- merged into one.
It is also composed with the inspiration of all mothers in this world. You’re indeed the greatest heroes/heroines! I am so proud of you! I lovingly dedicate this poem to you dear mothers and friends! Big hugs to all of you! Of course, I include especially my loving/dearest mom who’s my greatest inspiration, refuge and best friend.
This poem can also bring to us a message for this Easter Season as we remember Mother Mary who’d suffered much seeing her loving son Jesus Christ’s great sufferings on the cross at Mt. Calvary- a mother’s great love to her child indeed!
HAPPY EASTER SEASON TO ALL!
Contest: Any Poem Goes
Sponsor: My Greatest Poet and sis PD
Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013
One summer eve in Galilee
I stood before my open door;
to me it seemed just one more night--
like all the others gone before.
Someone would come and, passing by,
would hear the tinkling of the bells,
would see the garish harlot's robe
and painted eyes beneath my veil.
Someone, a man like all the rest--
it did not matter much to me--
a nobleman, Samaritan,
a Roman or a Pharisee,
someone would pause and with one glance
strip me again of maiden pride,
and leaving, later, never know
the shame and shattered dreams I hide.
O, he would think me very gay;
he would not see my hollow heart
nor hear me curse him for his pay.
Just then I saw a band of men
approaching down the narrow road;
there should be one among that crowd
aho wants the favors I bestow.
Kind eyes met mine, and with one look,
He saw what others could not see;
He saw the hunger of my soul,
my loneliness and misery.
I only know that since that day
I live to walk along with Him.
His look of love has changed my life;
I need not sell my love again.
Tonight He dines at Simon's house__
all day the dusty paths we roamed;
but, still he waits, unwashed, unkissed;
small courtesies no one has shown.
My love for Him! It rolls and swells
till from His side I cannot stay;
I will wash His feet with tears of love
and with my hair wipe the sand away.
Copyright, 1987, Faye Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2014
All the things we are on earth-
And all the things we're not.
All the times we've hurt our Lord,
By word and deed and thought.
All the days we've made Him sad,
Through hateful acts of spite.
We need step back a pace or two
And make the bad things right.
For heaven's not that far away-
Could be . . just round the bend.
And none of us can ever know
The moment of our end.
Be grateful for the blessings
He's bestowed on you this while.
Offer thanks by honoring Him,
In ways that make Him smile.
Ask for His forgiveness
For the times you hurt Him so.
Accept the blood He shed for you
Before your time to go.
Our days are but a platform,
Where we stage the life to come.
Thus all the joys of heaven
Are not there for everyone.
So bid the Lord come to your door
And then invite Him in.
Ask His grace as you confess
To all your earthly sins.
He will know what's in your heart
And if you are sincere . .
You'll have your place in Heaven
And dispel death’s dread and fear.
Copyright © Diane Lefebvre | Year Posted 2015
At the joyful sunrise service on Easter morn
On the sands of Daytona Beach no lines are drawn
Worshipers from each Christian denomination
Gather in unison as one congregation
Protestants, Mormons and Catholics in pre-dawn haze
Chorus of voices offering hymns of great praise
As the sun rises here, just as God’s son rose then
For a moment in time, many faiths are brethren
When the first rays of light streak across the ocean
‘Neath glowing pink light, we celebrate Christ risen
Surely God smiles down as all believers embrace,
Celebrate the Resurrection, bask in His grace
Good will is conveyed as heartfelt pledges are made
That the love displayed on Easter will never fade
All are soulidified and take this vow seriously
Knowing Christ’s sacrifice heals all humanity
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
Long ago Man soaked alters in blood
by sacrificing animals to God.
And ever since Noah and the flood
ploughs were hammered into sword and rod.
Civilizations grew and flowered
only to vanish with little trace.
And men of peace were labeled coward
while women were chattel kept in place.
God was always at war with Mankind
smiting pagans with His Holy wrath.
And compromise was so rare to find
there was no hope for a peaceful path.
Jesus didn't think of God that way
wanting to remove hate from His faith.
And preaching love taught us how to pray
purging souls of unclean thoughts and wraith.
He challenged what the people were taught
and they demanded blood for His love.
And crucified Him, yet His death bought
us eternal life through God above.
He was mourned and laid out in a cave
where for three days He suffered in hell.
And then He arose and left that grave
called His apostles and bid them tell.
God The Father now lives in our heart
blood is no longer offered to Him.
For through His Son, Man got a new start
and our fate no longer looks so grim.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
The morning sun peeks in my window
as I feel a tug at my feet
how could I not smile
at that little sheepish grin
Easter morn has arrived
He is risen
and so shall I
Pitter-patter across the worn pine floor
giggles, shrieks and laughter fill my home
searching for the hidden coloured eggs
my joyous children roam.
Such a special day.
Dressed in our new spring best
we show our love for Him
celebrating with close friends and family
indulging in delectable candies and cakes
a family game of whiffle ball,
pushing my little one on the swings
enjoying each others company
basking in the freshness of the great outdoors
The skies begin to darken
the stars start to shine
our day has come to an end.
After all the hugs are given
the I love you's spoken
kisses blown, good byes said
I climb up high into my cold brass bed
and reflect upon this glorious day
again it's just me and You
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015
jesus died and jerusalem went black
the wind howled and the sky thundered loudly
people ran in fear as the earth moaned
but the beloved stayed
jesus was buried in the early evening
those who believed in him carried his limp body
and the mary's and others followed weeping
they washed and anointed him with myrrh and aloe
wrapping him gently in a linen cloth with no words spoken
in sadness they rolled a huge stone over the entrance
leaving him in silence within his tomb
it was in the hush of dawn on the third day the mary's returned
they found the stone rolled away and the tomb empty
the soldiers who had been guarding the tomb had fled in fear
an angel in brilliant light appeared
telling them that christ had risen from the dead
frightened and in shock they ran to tell the apostles
after his rising, jesus appeared to many
he could eat, walk and talk to those he visited
showing them the holes in his hands, side and feet
and allowing them to touch him
for forty days he remained and on the fortieth day he rose
he was carried up into heaven
and we the followers celebrate his death at Easter
and his rising on Easter sunday . . . defeating death
April 1, 2014
Ekphrasis/the meaning of Easter
Copyright Protected, ID 658844
Pascal Premier Contest
Copyright © Broken Wings- Dear Heart | Year Posted 2015
"Happy Easter To You!", is the greeting I hear them shout!
Alas, I just lamely roost here, brood, ponder and pout!
I've worked for weeks making eggs and I'm all tuckered out!
All this hoopla about rabbits, I can really do without!
Me, my mom, aunts, nieces and innumerable distant cousins,
Have been producing eggs by the gross and by the dozens.
Every Easter 'tis those wily bunnies earning the gratitude,
Leaving me and my kin with a very fractious attitude!
Moms send their kids to rob the eggs from 'neath our breast,
Telling them the rabbits made them - this I vehemently protest!
I'm thinking of a sitdown strike come Lent next year,
To frustrate those crafty varmints with a message loud and clear!
The kids make appalling designs on the beauties we produce,
And even tint our chicks in lurid hues, adding to the abuse!
The rabbits get all the glory and stir up all this commotion!
They don't lay eggs! I'll disabuse folks of that silly notion!
If I sound somewhat frustrated, well I reckon I am,
As those cunning scoundrels perpetuate their mythical scam!
Us chickens will just have to press on with our usual grace.
The truth will out, then we'll "cluckle" at the egg on their face!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Placed No. 3 in A Chicken Poem In Memory of Armano Aurocano Rock Star
Copyright © Robert L. Hinshaw | Year Posted 2010
In quietude of early dawn
she stood on Easter Day,
where rested now her dearest son
too early passed away.
As light’s first rays peeled shadows from
the grave’s cold marbled stone,
she leaned and whispered into wind
her words of sorrow sown.
“I’ll never see his face again!”
she cried to wind and God.
“Why you, my son?” With stifled sob
she fell to grassy sod.
And then resplendent in the east,
as if to give reply,
the sunrise broke and seemed to loose
the truth from crimson sky.
Though blind she’d been, she now could see.
As earth was bathed in red,
it dawned on her that Easter morn
how Christ for all had bled.
Our worldly time is very short;
immortal all shall be.
The Comforter assured her this;
her son again she’d see.
By Andrea Dietrich
For the "Easter Inspirations" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Linda-Marie The Sweetheart of P.S.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012