THE EASTER GIFT
By
© Marion Sharville

The Easter Feast is a wondrous story
of Sacrifice, Hope and Love and Glory.
To children today; the things long ago,
may not seem true; not on facebook, you know.

Why choose a donkey, to ride into town?
Why not a carriage for a man of renown?
No red carpet for the path of a King,
Just Palm leaves strewn ‘neath the donkey and Him.

It’s hard to believe a man really would
suffer and die for other folk’s good.
Yet, Dad said, two firemen recently died
saving some strangers, trapped there inside.

Excited children will hurry, when bidden,
to find chocolate eggs, playfully hidden.
Renewal of Life, the eggs represent
after carrying the cross through the six weeks of Lent.

He doesn’t mind the colour of our skin
or if one is fat or painfully thin,
ugly or beautiful, tiny or tall.
He gave us His Son to die for us all.

Then, three days later to rise and to live,
was not just for those who declare they believe
but for ‘not sure’ or ‘don’t know’; the world and his wife
and, on Easter Sunday, the true Gift of Life.

© Marion Sharville

It’s queer to find that, at last, I am old.
I’ve never been brave and I’ve never been bold
and to wake up each morning is really a must
if you want reach to ninety years plus.

With life inside me, still bubbling away,
it’ll be a blessing to wake up each day.
I find my body has started to rot,
then again, my figure was never that hot.

I’ll make the most of every minute
find Pandora’s Box, to see what is in it.
There’s a freedom now that I’ve reached ninety-one,
I can do what I like and have lots of fun.
but if I should cause embarrassment to you,
just wait until I get… to be ninety-two.