Easter
Lent gathers up her cloak of sombre shading
In her reluctant hands.
Her beauty heightens, fairest in its fading,
As pensively she stands
Awaiting Easter's benediction falling,
Like silver stars at night,
Before she can obey the summons calling
Her to her upward flight,
Awaiting Easter's wings that she must borrow
Ere she can hope to fly--
Those glorious wings that we shall see to-morrow
Against the far, blue sky.
Has not the purple of her vesture's lining
Brought calm and rest to all?
Has her dark robe had naught of golden shining
Been naught but pleasure's pall?
Who knows? Perhaps when to the world returning
In youth's light joyousness,
We'll wear some rarer jewels we found burning
In Lent's black-bordered dress.
So hand in hand with fitful March she lingers
To beg the crowning grace
Of lifting with her pure and holy fingers
The veil from April's face.
Sweet, rosy April--laughing, sighing, waiting
Until the gateway swings,
And she and Lent can kiss between the grating
Of Easter's tissue wings.
Too brief the bliss--the parting comes with sorrow.
Good-bye dear Lent, good-bye!
We'll watch your fading wings outlined to-morrow
Against the far blue sky.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Related quotes
Easter
Celebrating the march of spring,
Awaiting what fruitful months bring,
We honour the resurrection,
And use the time for reflection,
Children will get their chocolate fix,
And outside one can hear new born chicks,
Smiles are shared at the holiday,
With loved ones for Easter Sunday,
Family comes to the forefront,
Kids go on an Easter egg hunt,
At last it is the end of Lent,
No more in fasting are days spent,
Blessings from the Easter Bunny,
The days change from cold to sunny,
Plants begin to show their flowers,
There are ever less rain showers.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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The Dead Church
Wild wild wind, wilt thou never cease thy sighing?
Dark dark night, wilt thou never wear away?
Cold cold church, in thy death sleep lying,
The Lent is past, thy Passion here, but not thine Easter-day.
Peace, faint heart, though the night be dark and sighing;
Rest, fair corpse, where thy Lord himself hath lain.
Weep, dear Lord, above thy bride low lying;
Thy tears shall wake her frozen limbs to life and health again.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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How Much For Your Wings?
How much for your wings?
How much for your wings?
Well it comes and it goes
How much for your wings?
And its high and low
How much for your wings?
I can name a price
How much for your wings?
Many forget their pride
Chorus
If I were you and and you were me
Wed know
And could it be what you perceive
Is wrong?
And what I mean what wrong could be
I dont know
Im not naive but I believe
So I may grow
How much for your wings?
The soul you kiss good-bye
How much for your wings?
Watch the stars collide
How does it feel
When youre the only one?
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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White Angel the Easter Rabbit
Out of a lovely fantasy…..,
She appeared one Springtime day…..,
And made our world……,
So happy in every way……,
It was a vision so wondrous……,
As we colored our eggs…..,
For the Easter Holiday
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
She’d hop, hop, hop….,
All day long…..,
Be dancin’ around……,
And singin’ a song…..,
As Easter came so merrily…..,
She was so much fun for us to see……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
Lovin’ her was a tireless habit……,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
But poof just like each night and day……,
Her visit soon had to end …..,
So she hop, hop, hopped on her way……,
Off to visit her fairytale friends……,
As we sadly bid farewell to her…….,
She said, “Come on now, don’t cry…..,
I’ll be back again some Easter Day”…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Brought sunshine to our lives…..,
When it came to joy we had it…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit…..,
Pure white gold in 24 karat…..,
White Angel, The Easter Rabbit….! ! !
(2011)
poem by Trade Martin
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It is good to be priest at Easter, child in Lent, peasant at Christmas, and foal in harvest-time.
A Tribute To Elvis And Chocolate! ....erotica to dribble to!
An Easter Chocolate Delight!
Chocolate covered Gemini.
An Easter honey. Your pure delight,
Dark, milky, a little bit white.
To be savoured...not gobbled
Up on sight.
A fluid, mesmerising stream,
Of melting love at out of sight temperature.
Dribbled over rolling pelvic flowing thighs.
Lightening blue, delicately licked to a gleaming
Erotic true.
An Elvis and Pricilla kiss.
Happy at Easter? There is nothing on earth
quite like this.
*note* out of season, but I love that! lol written all by myself 15th April 2006
poem by Tai Chi. Italy
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The Easter Lily
A little child, as winter turned to spring,
Tended a lily-plant with patient care,
Thinking, when she should see it blossoming,
To set it on the chancel-step; that there,
When Easter dawned on Lent, the spotless thing
Might on the feast-day be her offering,
Lifting its own white face to One more fair.
But, as the plant grew upward day by day,
Raising itself from earth towards the sky,
So seemed the child from earth to draw away,
The while she feared to see the lily die;
Unthinking that, ere broke the Easter ray,
She might her own white soul before Him lay
For Whom she sought the flower to sanctify.
Time passed. The lily bloomed not; and the night
Before the feast had come. And so the child
Sent to the church the cherished plant, despite
’T was but an unblown bud; and—reconciled
That on the altar-step, midst flowers white,
Her poor green stalk watched out the silent flight
Of hours until the morn—contented smiled.
• • • • • • • •
Fair broke the dawn upon the altar’s hem
Of lilies, breathing Easter greeting sweet;
But, with the night that so perfected them,
The child’s own spirit fled, the Light to meet
Beyond the heaven’s roseate diadem;
And, with the morning, bloomed upon the stem
The fair, white soul her own had longed to greet!
poem by Guy Wetmore Carryl from The Garden of Years and Other Poems (1893)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Silver Wings
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Dont leave me I cry
Dont take that airplane ride
But you lock me outta your mind
Left me standing here behind
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver Wings
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Dont leave me I cry
Dont take that airplane ride
But you lock me outta your mind
Left me standing here behind
Silver wings shining in the sunlight
Roaring engines headed somewhere in flight
Theyre taking you away
Leaving me lonely
Silver wings slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
Slowly fading out of sight
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have a bill to pay at Easter, and your Lent will be short.
The Easter Decorations
O take away your dried and painted garlands!
The snow-cloth's fallen from each quicken'd brow,
The stone's rolled off the sepulchre of winter,
And risen leaves and flowers are wanted now.
Send out the little ones, that they may gather
With their pure hands the firstlings of the birth,—
Green-golden tufts and delicate half-blown blossoms,
Sweet with the fragrance of the Easter earth;
Great primrose bunches, with soft, damp moss clinging
To their brown fibres, nursed in hazel roots;
And violets from the shady banks and copses,
And wood-anemones, and white hawthorn shoots;
And tender curling fronds of fern, and grasses
And crumpled leaves from brink of babbling rills,
With cottage-garden treasures—pale narcissi
And lilac plumes and yellow daffodils.
Open the doors, and let the Easter sunshine
Flow warmly in and out, in amber waves,
And let the perfume floating round our altar
Meet the new perfume from the outer graves.
And let the Easter “Alleluia!” mingle
With the sweet silver rain-notes of the lark;
Let us all sing together!—Lent is over,
Captivity and winter, death and dark
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Lent is:
A battle-time for folks;
Each soul seems like war-zone;
So, circumcise your hearts;
Renounce your sinful crafts.
Think of the good God did;
Repent for sins of past;
Remember: ‘Be perfect,
Like how the Lord, God is.’
Read holy works and books;
Reflect on life’s true worth;
Regain soul’s state of grace;
Retrace your steps to God.
Lent is to spend time lent
In life to search for God;
Lent is a chance to mend
Your ways, avoiding rod.
Lent is the time to lose
Your extra-calories;
Avoid exotic foods;
Recover mind’s lost peace!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-10-2009
poem by John Celes
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Who wishes for a short Lent let him contract debts to be paid at Easter.
Sonnet: Lenten Reflections
Remove the thought(s) that lead to evil deeds;
Instill the mind with thought(s) to do things good;
Do acts of charity to sow love-seeds;
Remind often the Saviour's Cross of wood!
Lent is the time to start afresh and pray;
Lent is the chance to make amends in life;
Lent is the season when you try to fast;
Lent offers more closeness with God through strife!
Afill the soul with grace through confession;
Allow the Word of God to work its ways;
Reflect about the Lord Jesus' passion;
Relive the love of God by nights and days!
Lent is the special time of year for soul;
Rethink, repent and make divine your role!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-02-12
poem by John Celes
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Butterfly Dreams and Angel Wings
my hands shiver in the cold
because you are not here for me to hold
and the summer rain starts to fall
while i'm still waiting for your call...
butterfly wings slowly take place
eventhough it's dark
and i can't see your face
as the moon says goodnight
and fireflies start to take flight...
all around me,
i can hear no sound,
no thunder, no lightning, only silence
i step out and stand in the rain
hoping that it will wash away the pain...
and angel wings took hold of me
slowly lifting me up to eternity
taking me to distant places
that are always full of hope and happiness...
then i suddenly opened my eyes
and i started to realize
it was just butterfly dreams
coming from my broken heart...
butterfly dreams and angel wings
are you really true?
or just a fantasy to make me blue?
butterfly dreams and angel wings
are you really there?
could you hold me
and never ever let go?
poem by Carla Grace De Los Santos
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Having Wings
Having wings
I have wings
Wings so white
Wings that let me fly like a kite
Having wings is such a spontaneous
Why to say to say hey, I made it that way
Made it to graduation and made it to a promotion.
made it all over this nation
But now having wings makes me want to cry
Cry so hard ill probably drown in my tears
Ill cry because I know we didn’t say are last good- bye and
are final hug and kiss good- night
I dedicate this to my grandfather
poem by Marrissa Vera
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The Lenten Season
Forty days has Lent each year,
For the soul to God endear;
Confess sins to God to hear;
Live a life pure without fear!
Prayer is key primary;
Fasting cleanses mind, body;
One does good deeds, charity;
Heart gets grace and purity.
Time to introspect divine;
Reconcile with Christ, the Vine;
Let remorse make heart to pine
For repentance that turns life fine.
Like Jesus, let's fight devil;
Let us do no more evil;
Lent can heal the soul that's ill;
We must take heaven's road well!
Lent is gift of God that's lent,
And for deeds goods is just meant;
Soul must turn sinless and bent
Erasing stain and all dent!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-02-2012
poem by John Celes
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Wings Of The Night
Wings of the night
Shimmering light
Passes over the moon.
Like some silent
Spiritual tune.
That ballerina
Of my soul
Pirouettes
Across the stage.
Lit by the sleeping rage
Of the sun.
Was this
How love begun.
Wings of the night
Fluttering white.
Against blue canvas
Of eternal sky.
Only angels
Fly so high.
Lending smiles
To stars that cry.
Heaven's candles
Burning low.
Is this
What fate did throw
Into a swirling
Midnight show.
Wings of the night
Fanned out.
Coloured bright.
Glide
On glacier white
Dawn.
When love's hope is reborn.
Watch the skies.
For that elusive sprite.
Magic flies
On the wings of the night.
poem by Kevin East
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Lent
Welcome dear feast of Lent: who loves not thee,
He loves not Temperance, or Authority,
But is compos'd of passion.
The Scriptures bid us fast; the Church says, now:
Give to thy Mother, what thou wouldst allow
To ev'ry Corporation.
The humble soul compos'd of love and fear
Begins at home, and lays the burden there,
When doctrines disagree,
He says, in things which use hath justly got,
I am a scandal to the Church, and not
The Church is so to me.
True Christians should be glad of an occasion
To use their temperance, seeking no evasion,
When good is seasonable;
Unless Authority, which should increase
The obligation in us, make it less,
And Power itself disable.
Besides the cleanness of sweet abstinence,
Quick thoughts and motions at a small expense,
A face not fearing light:
Whereas in fulness there are sluttish fumes,
Sour exhalations, and dishonest rheums,
Revenging the delight.
Then those same pendant profits, which the spring
And Easter intimate, enlarge the thing,
And goodness of the deed.
Neither ought other men's abuse of Lent
Spoil the good use; lest by that argument
We forfeit all our Creed.
It's true, we cannot reach Christ's forti'eth day;
Yet to go part of that religious way,
Is better than to rest:
We cannot reach our Saviour's purity;
Yet we are bid, 'Be holy ev'n as he, '
In both let's do our best.
Who goeth in the way which Christ hath gone,
Is much more sure to meet with him, than one
That travelleth by-ways:
Perhaps my God, though he be far before,
May turn and take me by the hand, and more:
May strengthen my decays.
Yet Lord instruct us to improve our fast
By starving sin and taking such repast,
As may our faults control:
That ev'ry man may revel at his door,
Not in his parlour; banqueting the poor,
And among those his soul.
poem by George Herbert
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Song Of The Rose
THE lilac-time is over,
Laburnum's day is past,
The red may-blossoms cover
The white ones, fallen too fast.
And guelder-roses hang like snow,
Where purple flag-flowers grow.
And still the tulip lingers,
The wall-flower's red like blood
The ivy spreads pale fingers,
The rose is in the bud.
Good-bye, sweet lilac, and sweet may!
The Rose is on the way.
You were but heralds sent us--
All April's buds, and May's--
But painted missals lent us
That we might learn her praise,
Might cast down every bud that blows
Before our Queen, the Rose!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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