Free weekly poems Poems: An Easter poem

Pour yourself into the glass as WINE

Help yourself as wine glass
A liquid form long crystal,
Song words years, it is known,
The songs that do not change as the years pass.
antique glass, new wine, new elements, old way;
Vintages that exploded with life and joy;
Enduring hope can destroy the horror;
Ritual is a faith of a house.

The tomb of Christ is that the BED

The tomb of Christ, but the bed is
It was based on three days.
Easter morning, he rose again,
The flower of our control.
In Him, born from the dead,
If, though declines meat
Give our faith is that when we die
Our souls, like her, are not over
Forsaken in our tomb.
Christ, with great affection, when
He sees the pain in our soul, then
Redeem your pain.
In his eternal suffering
We will find grace sufficient for
The seed of faith to flourish.

Suddenly I do not expect you

I do not expect you to love me,
Are my own feelings clear.
Passion is the ornate entrance
In a world we want and fear.

We can not know where that will lead us,
Or if we go around for a long time
But the fun is opening
That leads to the best song.

So come to me with an open mind
And the heart, and time will give us
With laughter and joy unobstructed
And, perhaps, one day love.

Part of being Jewish is a choice

Part of being Jewish is a choice
As it becomes a conservation law.
Seders starting the flow of the warning,
Stories about linking a thing of the past.
In only words that the exiles had to endure,
Verses reified by repetition
Each legacy of a generation
Fed give these words of ancient voices.

A mother serves her sugar

A mother sugar serves
A little mint
To clarify statements
What he meant

When set to keep a soul
Quite apart from yours,
Who is she appreciated, however, should be taught
To live and die in isolation.

The joy is a treasure not to be missed

Happiness is not a treasure to be missed.
At least you do not, you will be comforted.
Linger with me as you can choose.
In music as in life without joy is cold.
Cancel, then the corset of her pain
While you could enjoy the moment mourners.
To listen music, eloquent though brief,
Restore the miracle of its meaning.
From everything we think and feel, and say or do,
So little, in fact, must be linked by time.
Palpable However, I am here with you,
The music that never in this rhyme.
All that was, I am, and yet will
No less in love, even in memory.

JOY need an enlightened being

Happiness requires that one is awake
Set the mood of the heart to live.
Some prefer the dark, as is their right,
Because of agony, and leave
Not only welcomed, but all that the holy light.

About the Author

I am a poet and webmaster of the popular poetry site, Poems for Free, at http://www.poemsforfree.com.

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