I let them all pass over me –
The cheery Happy Easters!
Assuming I will be among
Today’s hot cross bun feasters.
But no, I won’t be eating lamb
Or ham with all its glazing,
Although I’m sure the Easter pies
My friend makes are amazing.
For I’m observing Pesach,*
So what I will eat instead
Will be matzoh or its relatives,
All with unleavened bread.
Of course, there’s meat and chicken,
Lots of veggies, eggs and fruit
And special cakes and cookies,
Made with matzoh meal, to boot.
I used to set those people straight
Whose greetings had no clue
That Easter’s not for everyone,
But I no longer do.
When people offer me a wish
For a Happy Easter day,
I smile and say, “The same to you”
And send them on their way.
*Passover
I went for my early morning run,
just me and my young son.
It was to be a lot of fun,
then home for a hot cross bun.
We waved to Mary's grandson,
then it had all begun.
My shoe came untied.
I almost died.
Come on one spiritual guide,
I cried.
One must hold on to their pride,
disaster is about to show real wide.
Down I went,
did the concrete now have a dent?
It all peeked off to the bright morning sun.
I watched 'Buns of Steel'
'cos I wanted the real deal
Did all the exercises
Brooked no compromises
But when I sneaked a little feel
My hot cross buns began to peel
I don't see you anywhere - oh yes, over hare,
it didn't matter, if he's not there, I don't care;
they say animals have the time to stand and stare,
fuzzy wuzzy was a bear, fuzzy wuzzy had no hare.
Alliteration gives you constipation, don't want to go,
to there, where colours rain, there you go, indigo;
what do you get when you pour hot water down a
rabbit hole - a hot cross bunny so they all say.
There was a dividing line, didn't want to split hares,
although the sum of the parts may come in pairs;
Alice had a ban in case they just came in small boats,
not only had they large ears but also serbo-croats.
The party was over, the march hare lost his friends,
no hare 'lip' because it was where love transcends.
Here at Mother Goose’s party
Jack and Jill have just arrived.
Small Bo Peep and Jack be Nimble
Came to greet them and high-fived
While Miss Muffet, busy eating,
Found a spider in her whey.
Even though ‘twas itsy-bitsy,
Humpty Dumpty saved the day.
Georgie Porgie went in search of
Little Jack among the sheep.
He was eating Christmas pie right near
Boy Blue, who was asleep.
As the cat was entertaining
With his fiddle ‘neath the moon,
Some big cow jumped over, looking
For a missing dish and spoon.
There were hot cross buns a’plenty
Selling down by London Bridge.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
Hoped to taste one – just a smidge.
Old King Cole made an appearance,
Peter Piper by his side.
Three blind mice played pat-a-cake
While Tommy Tucker ran to hide.
It was quite a festive evening
'Til the striking of the clock,
All to honor Mother Goose
And all the members of her flock.
*Today is officially Mother Goose Day
It was as if all vengeance
was set to touch down here
upon the blazing waters
of the bay. The air turning
fiery red and a big sun burning
through into the sealed
catacombs of the head.
But in truth all was passing
in an earthly quiet save
for the solitary cry of a gull
riding the last light home
to roost and the sound
of water lapping the pier.
In another time everything
was cauterized
by a smothering fear
and found no voice.
Demons carried
a white hot cross.
The colors of a setting sun
gave to eyes a palette
to paint the furnaces of hell.
Now - here in this light
and in these distances spanning
the bay's wide waters,
small boats move
and leave fiery wakes
upon the mind that linger
for a while
then heal to a reflective still.
The evening settles back,
as old men do,
into a deepening silence.
My grandson’s in the band this year;
He’s playing the trombone.
We wondered how he’d handle it
Or get those deep notes blown.
The instrument within its case
Seems hard for him to schlep,
But we watched as he assembled it
To practice, step by step.
He played the notes of “Hot Cross Buns”
(We couldn’t really tell)
With sounds that he produced emerging
From the trombone’s bell.
He recognized mistakes, but then
He’d have another go,
Remaining calm and focused
‘Til the notes began to flow.
How wonderful to witness
The beginnings of a skill
Which may grow or not, but currently
Gives all of us a thrill.
The calendar’s already marked –
There is a concert date
To hear the 4th grade band perform
And we can hardly wait!
News spins around my head.
Killings, a brave puppy dog
saving a kitten,
rape & heroic deeds
done by cop and villain.
October surprises loom,
we are led by the nose
to suppose
he lied
or tried hard to tell the truth.
Forgive me for asking
but can the news cycle
get a puncture just once.
Blow me down
with a killer clown,
shock the horror
let the cat out
of its peekaboo bag.
Take a knee,
rest and drop -
that smoking gun is a prop
cool the hot-cross bun some.
Mute the chattering
media flunky's.
Not news is good
for news junkies,
yet bad stuff happens
and we must all chase it,
run it down
and claim the day
as if we owned it.
Sloppy Santa spent his Christmas jolly
Until in folly he sat on holly
Yet Old Saint Nick laughed like a loon.
Bright eyes twinkling, his cap did doff
Watching a rich eggnog run off
With his dear sweet hot cross bun, soon
To a damp honeymoon spittoon.
Santa saw it, please do not scoff.
12/22/2020
Frost on the pumpkins and oak leaves are floating
Chills from the winds and no one is boating
Camps are closed and ice cream stands boarded up
I have marmalade on muffins and hot chocolate in a cup.
Where did the summer go, it really flew by
I’ll get to pick apples and make my delicious apple pie.
Warm cider with peppermint sticks to spice up my buds
Will watch the late show after I soak in the suds.
Time to turn up the flower beds and put in some mums
Fresh garlic to add to my special hot cross buns,
Harvest fairs are coming soon, sure sign of fall
Of the four seasons I love this most of all.
The Easter Bunny
Easter Eggs, in the shops galore,
Buy just one and you’ll want lots more.
One for Mum and one for Dad
And all the children, that’s not bad.
Easter eggs are just such fun
They herald Spring which brings the sun
How did the Easter eggs get here?
From the Easter Bunny that is clear.
In coloured wrappers bright they come
Undoing them is such great fun.
Ribbons like rainbows tied around.
The shiny chocolate to be found.
The chocolate eggs, they are such treats
Shapes of rabbits, chickens and sweetmeats.
But wait awhile before you eat,
What is the purpose of such a treat?
Good Friday brings the Hot Cross Bun
When Jesus died for us: God’s only son
But Joy! on Easter Day, He rose
He loved us so much this path he chose
So eat your Easter eggs with joy
God loves us, every girl and boy
His love surrounds us - day and night
Look up in the sky - His star shines bright.
Enjoy your Easter Eggs. Have fun
Cross has many meanings and symbols in everyday life
It can be described as a facial expression of distaste or strife
To cross someone, a person hurts others for their own sake
A Cross is also known as the place Jesus died for us on the stake
Many people wear cross pendants, they are seen worldwide
“To Cross” can also be a bridge or road to travel to reach the other side
Cross can be patterns to follow to make some clothes or knit
Cross stitch was seen as a popular craft from the eighties, often in a kit
Cross can be a grade school memory of crossing your t’s and dotting your i’s
Cross reminds me of hot cross buns, their taste and smell are such a high
2/27/19
Cross-Your interpretation Contest
Sponsor: Carolyn Devonshire
A new day has begun
Maybe we will have some fun
Like playing in the sun
Might spend time with a loved one
While making some hot cross buns
Could build a chicken run
I will definitely try to leave nothing undone
As a new day has begun
3/16/2017
Grandad says that Easter isn’t funny
You won’t find him at parties
Dressed up as the Easter bunny
He’ll not be scoffing chocolate eggs
Or anything like that
He’ll be putting on his Sunday best
And dusting off his hat
For Grandad is an Anglican
Of serious intent
Does bible study when he can
And gave up cake for Lent
He says that Jesus died for me
And I’d best not forget it
But seeing as I’m only three
I’m sorry, I don’t get it
My Granny, now my Granny, mind
She has a different view
She leaves me little eggs to find
In places like my shoe
The smell of Granny’s hot cross buns
Is paradise and bliss
She makes me little special ones
Topped with a tiny kiss
Granny says God loves me
As she makes my Easter bonnet
With a smile as she carefully
Sews flowers and bees upon it
Let Grandad do religious stuff
The crucifixion thing
I’m only really old enough
For Granny, and the Spring
Grandad’s back from church now
Saying ‘Jesus rose for you’
‘Well, bless us all’ my Granny says
‘The buns are risen too’
by Gail
Hot Cross Bun
(Now figure out that title)
In poetry will we finally reach a phase
When all of our poems truly amaze
Ourselves and others reading them
In front of fireplace when light is dim.
An old Abe sure you don't happen to be
Back in those days it was hard to see
Things as silence of night was there
So they lit a long candle with care.
As for me I prefer an electric light
And write poems as hard as I might
After in my mind a picture they drew
When I awoke each one came through.
Could be barely in morning or late at night
And any temptation off I refused to fight
Regardless of way my mind might be going
Poems popped out and are all freely flowing.
Some poets say that my poems are repugnant
Due to being weird and rather redundant
I myself find favor with each and everyone
And read them while eating a hot cross bun.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
PS. They don't have a category for sick yet.
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