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Moomin May 3
In ancient times was born a day, for festival and joyful feast
Where all would gather eagerly, to pour the wine and roast the beast
And at first these new days, gave the people needed rest
Gave them pause from toil and worry, made them feel that they were blessed

But over years and under Eons, new days contrived were added on
Days to worship fellow men, or worship season, moon and sun
And soon this list of special days, got beyond all real control
And came to be under compulsion, and so began to take their toll

And we forgot the origins, the purpose and the why
And we embroiled with heavy hearts, with cost and groan and sigh
A day for Christ born and dead, on a day he did not choose
To self-indulge with merriment, and Christianity re-use

But soon became the bearded saint, and jolly man of snow  
Or chocolate feast and bunny hop, and mystic mistletoe
A day for thanks, a day for dads, a day for Saints and ghouls
And one for lovers and for mothers, and even one for fools

Remembering ****** victory, or the start of a new year
A day to gorge and one to fast, for fireworks and fear
And a day for every one of us, so we are worshipped too
To make us feel loved just once a year, cause once will have to do

And then the days become the law, and choice is left undone
Compelled to celebrate each time, or risk us being shunned
For who can deny a chocolate egg, for child or lover sweet?
Or deny a mother's floral gift, or children's spooky treat?



Who would dare to question these, and stop from living lies?
Who will defy these decrees, and in the face of pressure fly?
For we comply, against our will, while we incur the debt
Though the birthday boy be a loathsome lad, for one day he is the best

And children challenge strangers, for sugar under threat
And mum is glorified one day, then daily we forget
For if we are forced to love one day, when and how and who
How less likely all year round, do we tell them “I love you”?

Yet among these obligation days, one was left behind
A day given long ago, but one to which we're blind
Remember that day of rest that was, when families were one
And the world would stop and contemplate, and gather in the sun  

No more days like that for us, this world has gone beyond
Past truth and love and God above, to whom we once belonged

And so I choose to have a day, where no-one is adored
Where no purchase is required, one which we can afford
Where the corporates do not dictate, and sell plastic love to us
And the measure of our affection, is not how much it cost

And give no name, nor choose a date, but fellowship hold dear
And warmly tend to love and friend, on all days of the year
Fiona Apr 29
I’ve never laid eyes on you before.
But I’ve felt you.
I’ve felt your rumble,
bellowing against the walls
of my house.
And I’ve heard you.
Your lonely howl
sighing against the small window.
And you’ve taken away my sight;
The way you ****
light out of a house,
a deep cry filling the air.
Yet the worst is
that even in the dark,
I can smell you;
toxic fumes billowing
in the humid air.
& As you came at night,
the only sign of you
was your roar,
the shattering of wood,
and each light
dropping in the city.
You may be beautiful,
but you left behind
violent demolition.
Easter Sunday.
ConnectHook Apr 13
It’s Easter in Coronaland;

The empty malls hold silent air.

There’s paranoia on demand

For Easter in Coronaland.

The baby chickens make their stand;

And pastel rabbit eggs declare:

It’s Easter in Coronaland

In empty malls of silent air.
PROMPT 12: write a triolet.
These eight-line poems involve repeating lines and a rhyme scheme.

Seriously, I think I have written WAY better stuff than this.
It was a completely formulaic write in response to the prompt...
But this Triolet is getting read and the others are barely getting 15 reads per day.
One thing about HP, it surprises one to find out what poetry others pay attention to. It is very counter-intuitive.
I think my recent *****-poem is much better poetically (?)
Randy Johnson Apr 12
You may find it to be amusing but I don't think it's one bit funny.
I have a twenty year old son who still believes in the Easter Bunny.
I tried to raise him to be normal but sadly, I was bound to fail.
He also believes in the Tooth Fairy and the Wizard of Oz as well.
When it came a tornado, he started singing "Over The Rainbow".
He thought that instead of being killed, Oz was where he would go.
Luckily, that tornado wasn't severe and no people were killed.
I've failed to convince my son that the Easter Bunny isn't real.
When he sees kids hunting Easter eggs, he says they were hidden by the Easter Bunny.
Will somebody please take my son off my hands, I'm prepared to pay a lot of money.
I'm scared of my son because he's obviously a lunatic and I don't know what to do.
Don't laugh, you could also end up with a grown son who believes in the Easter Bunny too.
Ash Apr 12
How God, are you so good-
that you have filled me in this way?
That I want to overflow,
Even in my deepest pain.

My tears, they flow,
But my spirit knows-
That everything will be okay
Because countless times, you’ve made a way.

My eyes may weep,
But in joy, I’ll sleep
Because you have filled my every need.

My flesh may fail
My surface breaks
But my core has yet to shake

How God, are you so good
That you laid your life for me
You emptied your cup
To fill mine up
And this I sing with glee.
laura Apr 12
Even though
this may not be
our traditional Easter,
I hope you all have
an amazing one
and don't forget
what Jesus has
done for us.
Hallelujah!!
Happy Easter!
Eloisa Apr 12
I hear the sound of prayers in the ocean waves.
I hear the echoes of hope in the winds.
I hear the trees and the flowers sing
affection and grace.
I hear my heart,
I hear the melody of faith deep within.
“The day the Lord created hope was probably the same day He created spring.” – Bernard Williams

“Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in the books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.” – Martin Luther
Steve Page Apr 12
Are those my cream eggs?
Those look like mine.
Where did you find them?
I'm sure I had nine.

Are those my cream eggs?
They better not be.
Cos if they are,
You owe me!
Easter is more than Cadbury's.  But Cadbury's helps.
Steve Page Apr 11
The King and the prince went up to the city,
the King to make peace and the prince to get tricky.
One lived to love and one loved to hate,
one gave his life and one took the bait.

The King and the prince went up to the city,
one stood condemned, one died not guilty.
One spoke the truth and one shouted lies
one knew the plan, one got a surprise.

The King and the prince went up to the city,
one filled with tears and one with no pity.
The prince had his Friday, ‘thought that was the finish.
The King rose on Sunday, his rule undiminished.
John 16.11 - …the prince of this world now stands condemned
John 19.14 - “Here is your king!”
A very first but
Not a very Good Easter Saturday at East China Sea

No, it's not a good Easter Saturday
Lead Grey sky
Wet, miserable
And to make matters worse

Although the realization that Christ was crucified last night
and is dead and buried and won't rise until tomorrow

Would the disciples have no idea that he will indeed rise?
But rain rises first, everywhere.
Rainy and  gray mood at a very first oriental stay Easter Saturday. Biscuits instead of chocolate eggs. Are we all seeking an  Internal light?
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