Poetry competition CLOSED 19th April 2019 1:49am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
Page:
What easter means to you?
Poetry Contest Description
A competition where contestants are asked to compose a poem saying what easter means to them.
Contestants, please be aware of my rules and the rule guidelines. As, I will not allow party-poopers and forfeiters. On another note here are my guidelines:
1. Must submit a/ the poem(only if you choose to participate, if not pop off)
2. Rhythm
3. Must discuss what easter means to you(It can't talk about anything else or you will not succeed nor be one of the successful hopefuls. I will make sure of that. )
* In return, good luck and make Queen Kawaii proud*
1. Must submit a/ the poem(only if you choose to participate, if not pop off)
2. Rhythm
3. Must discuss what easter means to you(It can't talk about anything else or you will not succeed nor be one of the successful hopefuls. I will make sure of that. )
* In return, good luck and make Queen Kawaii proud*
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
He is Risen
One day your riding into town
On an donkey, with the crowd cheering
Representing the hope
This could be great, but its not. ( Mathew 21:1-17) Palm Sunday
Five days later
You are carrying a cross
With the crowds calling for your death
This could be sad but its not (John 19:16-42) Good Friday
Save our people ( Jeremiah 31:7)
Thinking small
Taking away the sins of the world (John 1:29)
That is beyond comprehension
Overcoming death (John 11:25-26) HAPPY EASTER
That's eternity
Matthew 28:6
On an donkey, with the crowd cheering
Representing the hope
This could be great, but its not. ( Mathew 21:1-17) Palm Sunday
Five days later
You are carrying a cross
With the crowds calling for your death
This could be sad but its not (John 19:16-42) Good Friday
Save our people ( Jeremiah 31:7)
Thinking small
Taking away the sins of the world (John 1:29)
That is beyond comprehension
Overcoming death (John 11:25-26) HAPPY EASTER
That's eternity
Matthew 28:6
Written by TIG
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Anonymous
<< post removed >>
He Is Risen...
Every morning
I can feel your
presence in the air
Every breath
I take is you
in all I am
All my eyes can
see is what you
speak into existence
Lord your word...
He came to save us all...
He is risen as he said
come and see the place
where he lays
He is risen as he said
went and opened
the heaven gates
He is risen...
HE IS RISEN...
Jesus the saviour
of the earth...
I can feel your
presence in the air
Every breath
I take is you
in all I am
All my eyes can
see is what you
speak into existence
Lord your word...
He came to save us all...
He is risen as he said
come and see the place
where he lays
He is risen as he said
went and opened
the heaven gates
He is risen...
HE IS RISEN...
Jesus the saviour
of the earth...
Written by dejure
(vick)
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with His stripes
infinite love
gift-wrapped in burial clothes
unblemished sacrifice
upon the altar
born to a world of
beastly offal stench
Good Shepherd
midst His lost sheep seeking shelter
a lowly feeding trough
cradles the King
a feast of slight appeal
to gluttony
Lamb to the slaughterhouse
of brutal men
persona non grata
dark litany
a cup that will not pass
by Sovereign Will
till every bitter drop
congeals the blood
a crown whose thorns must first
impale His brow
a sword whose blade must spill
His vital flood
He fancies not my gold
this King of Heaven
this Babbling Infant
soon my Royal Priest
sweet alabaster frankincense
i bring
to season up
the Sacrificial Feast
with myrrh embalmed for
vile Jerusalem
no beauty that we should
desire Him
we hide our faces from
His solemn grief
yet Agape would
thus inspire Him
His cradle is His grave
no lullaby
has future agony
from Him concealed
wounded for our transgressions
torn and bruised
that with His stripes
the broken may be healed…
© Copyright 2018 December 09
by Clyve A. Bowen
gift-wrapped in burial clothes
unblemished sacrifice
upon the altar
born to a world of
beastly offal stench
Good Shepherd
midst His lost sheep seeking shelter
a lowly feeding trough
cradles the King
a feast of slight appeal
to gluttony
Lamb to the slaughterhouse
of brutal men
persona non grata
dark litany
a cup that will not pass
by Sovereign Will
till every bitter drop
congeals the blood
a crown whose thorns must first
impale His brow
a sword whose blade must spill
His vital flood
He fancies not my gold
this King of Heaven
this Babbling Infant
soon my Royal Priest
sweet alabaster frankincense
i bring
to season up
the Sacrificial Feast
with myrrh embalmed for
vile Jerusalem
no beauty that we should
desire Him
we hide our faces from
His solemn grief
yet Agape would
thus inspire Him
His cradle is His grave
no lullaby
has future agony
from Him concealed
wounded for our transgressions
torn and bruised
that with His stripes
the broken may be healed…
© Copyright 2018 December 09
by Clyve A. Bowen
Written by cabcool
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Anonymous
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Anonymous
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