"fuelling" poems - Hello Poetry

Far away in ancient Jerusalem Stood a garden, long, long ago Home to giant oaks and figs And plants and shrubs of every kind. On every season, from time to time Merrily they would burst into bloom Filling the air with fragrance sweet And fuelling the hearts with joy and cheer. Amid the riot of flashing shades Where Poppies and Pansies held their heads In a corner, there a Lily stood, Sans scent and sans grandeur. A poor loner never once noticed Nor skilled to steal the show, Those, brilliant in shade and shape With contempt openly quipped ‘It’s such a shame She grows among us With such pallid shade And nothing to rave’, ‘Lilies are such lazy lot Giving only seasonal blooms’ Rang aloud their haughty comments Rashly blurted out and blunt The poor Lily wilted in shame Wishing she had never been born. Late that evening, through the garden Into the newly dug up grave A band of people came with lights Bearing someone cut and scathed. With blood oozing, drop by drop From wounds, left by piercing nails The body, carefully wrapped in linen Was the body of Jesus - Son of God The one who bore the sins of the world And courted the most accursed of deaths. The body embalmed was laid inside And sealed with a giant block of stone Soldiers posted to guard the tomb And every vigil so prudently kept. Early by dawn, three days hence While it was still very dark From inside the tomb had come Rumbling sounds and a blinding light. Flowers en masse blinked their eyes Beheld a man, gently walking out The wounds still fresh on his palm And the linen that swaddled, lying behind. As they watched this queer sight In awful amazement, they did see A host of Lilies, white as snow Far more beautiful than any of them Bowing their heads in reverential glee And singing Hosanna to the Lord of Life. All the flora in silent shock Sighted from whence the Lilies came They sprang unforeseen in those spots Where drops of blood from his body fell Then onwards, without fail April sees the grandeur and grace, Of snowy lilies - those delicate blooms Sprouting suddenly from the crust of the Earth Joggling their heads in whiffing breeze, And giving delight to all who behold.

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Mar 31, 2018

Mar 31, 2018 at 1:00 PM UTC

valsa-george

Blood Blossomed

Far away in ancient Jerusalem Stood a garden, long, long ago Home to giant oaks and figs And plants and shrubs of every kind. On every season, from time to time Merrily they would burst into bloom Filling the air with fragrance sweet And fuelling the hearts with joy and cheer. Amid the riot of flashing shades Where Poppies and Pansies held their heads In a corner, there a Lily stood, Sans scent and sans grandeur. A poor loner never once noticed Nor skilled to steal the show, Those, brilliant in shade and shape With contempt openly quipped ‘It’s such a shame She grows among us With such pallid shade And nothing to rave’, ‘Lilies are such lazy lot Giving only seasonal blooms’ Rang aloud their haughty comments Rashly blurted out and blunt The poor Lily wilted in shame Wishing she had never been born. Late that evening, through the garden Into the newly dug up grave A band of people came with lights Bearing someone cut and scathed. With blood oozing, drop by drop From wounds, left by piercing nails The body, carefully wrapped in linen Was the body of Jesus - Son of God The one who bore the sins of the world And courted the most accursed of deaths. The body embalmed was laid inside And sealed with a giant block of stone Soldiers posted to guard the tomb And every vigil so prudently kept. Early by dawn, three days hence While it was still very dark From inside the tomb had come Rumbling sounds and a blinding light. Flowers en masse blinked their eyes Beheld a man, gently walking out The wounds still fresh on his palm And the linen that swaddled, lying behind. As they watched this queer sight In awful amazement, they did see A host of Lilies, white as snow Far more beautiful than any of them Bowing their heads in reverential glee And singing Hosanna to the Lord of Life. All the flora in silent shock Sighted from whence the Lilies came They sprang unforeseen in those spots Where drops of blood from his body fell Then onwards, without fail April sees the grandeur and grace, Of snowy lilies - those delicate blooms Sprouting suddenly from the crust of the Earth Joggling their heads in whiffing breeze, And giving delight to all who behold.