Lenten Poems — week 2

CROSS WITH CROWN OF THORNS

SACRIFICE

A crown,
A diadem,
A shackle placed upon the brow.

Bestowed
Contemptuously,
And scarlet robe on shoulders bowed.

The grief,
The agony,
The tortuous, mutilating pain.

All born
By Innocence
To give me peace and health again.

A cross,
On Calvary:
To execute the Father’s plan.

A tomb,
Now empty stands:
He’s paid the price for every man.

 

 

 


 

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Lenten Poems – week 1

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. A few years ago I wrote 7 poems during Holy Week — or Passion Week — leading up to Easter Sunday. This year in commemoration of our Lord’s suffer, I’m going to repost those poems on each Wednesday in Lent — and then post the last of the 7 on Easter Sunday. I hope they bless you and inspire you to gratefully meditate on how our Lord Jesus suffered for our sins and in our place to work our total redemption and salvation.

 


CROWN OF THORNS ULTRA MODERNBARABBAS

My heart pounded
As they dragged me out.
They stood me close beside Him,
And I looked about.

The crowd was frenzied:
With rage and raw disgust.
I wasn’t sure the real cause–
Why they fumed and cussed.

I glanced beside me
To catch a glimpse of Him,
But what my eyes saw in His
Convicted me within.

When guards shouted,
“Who is it going to be?”
Then I understood they’d choose
To set one free.

“Free Barabbas!
Set Barabbas free!”
I could not believe my ears:
They chose, not Him, but me.

“What of Jesus?”
Then asked the guards.
“Crucify Him! Crucify Him!
He is not our God!”

My shackles fell off:
By law a free man.
Pilate called for water then
And there he washed his hands.

The day grew dark
As He hung there,
Upon a cross with thieves each side,
Then He said a prayer.

He prayed, “Forgive them.”
Did that include me?
When He said, “It is finished!”
I knew He’d died for me
— Barabbas.

 

 

 


 

The Foot Test

In honor of this month of love, I thought I’d close it out with a jewel from my poetry archives — a piece I wrote several years ago for a NAPOWRIMO challenge to write a poem about love without using any of the hearts, flowers, cupids, or cliches normally attached to the sentiment. I had totally forgotten about writing this piece until I was wandering idly through my archives this week and spotted it. So for those of you who are looking for a way to determine whether what you’re experiencing is true love or not, maybe this little poem can be of help.


FEET, CLKER.COM 2 - credits

I know is this old world, it’s sad, but true:
Emotional relationships can fail.
And marriages, though formerly ’til death,
Now change as fast as color on the nails.

But I’m convinced our troth will still endure.
I’m sure of you as you are sure of me.
I know because we’re comfortable together
When on the same footstool we prop our feet.

What better test of faithfulness and trust,
Than doffing shoes and bravely baring toes.
Our feet look comfy, happy, and complete,
And for commitment’s sake we hold our nose.

 

~~~
photo: clker.com

 

 


 

Nursery Nonsense Continues

Haven’t posted anything new in a while, and today I decided to make myself write. Unfortunately, when I sat down to the keyboard, the only thing that would stick in my mind were the first-line words of a centuries old nursery rhyme. Well, why not, I thought. And here’s the slightly embarrassing result. But it was sort of fun.

HEY DIDDLE ILLUSTRATION -- GUTENBURG PROJECT

The Gutenberg Project – http://www.gutenberg.org/

 

Nursery Nonsense Continues

“Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle;
The cow jumped over the moon.”
I remember it well
This nursery rhyme swell,
And its sing-songy poetry tune.

But I’ve scratched at my head
Wondering, when all that’s said,
What on earth can it possibly mean?
Doggy barks in dismay;
Dish and spoon run away,
But no value or sense can I glean.

Well, hey, diddle, diddle,
It matters so little
That no reason comes in this rhyme.
For centuries now
It has cheered us somehow,
And will do so through eons of time.

 

 


 

Mockingbird Tso’i

The new poetic form I created last year (Tso’i) is still a challenge for me, but I’m finding it easier and easier to write in that form. This week I created two Tso’i, one for my “Ahyoka” poetry site and one for here. Today’s poem is a celebration of the return of my Mockingbirds to nest in my big Blue Spruce in my front yard. Yay!

mockingbird -- skeeze -- px

Welcome home,
Mockingbird family.
Each year you nest with me, but then abroad you roam.
I wait expectantly;
Now you’ve come!

 

 

 


photo courtesy of Skeeze @pixabay.com

 

 

~~~

Christmas Light

WHITE CHRISTMAS TREE MODERN LIGHTS 2 - Ana_J - PX

 

Oh Christmas tree, oh geometric Christmas tree,
Updated decoration of this century,
Combining old tradition with technology —
Eye-catching combination set for all to see.

I wonder if the architect has realized
That though his modern concept is a structural prize,
The Light that gives it meaning appeared to Moses’ eyes.
From burning bush to modern tree, it’s Jesus Christ.

 


photo courtesy of Ana_J @ pixabay

 

 

~~~