Easter Poems by Various Poets

by Dawn Pisturino on April 13, 2022

How Easter Eggs Get Their Colors

At Halloween we had more treats
than we had trick-or-treaters
and at least one of us
living in this house
is not much of a candy eater
We had some red and green
M&Ms left over after
this Christmas season
there is some ribbon candy
left here as well for that
very same reason
Those Valentine hearts
I wrote about
Pink, Yellow, Orange
and other assorted pastel
will likely get leftover
past their prime as well
Though Spring is not
quite yet here
in the mornings we
have noticed
A Bunny lurking near
He seems rather hungry
seeking yummies for his tummy
and though you may think it funny
we have decided leftover candy
when ground up might be dandy
to feed to that very hungry bunny
That way he will have
exactly what he needs to make
each colored Easter egg.
Do you think for a minute
I am the kind of person
who would pull your leg?
~Mary Havran~

On Easter Day

The silver trumpets rang across the Dome:
The people knelt upon the ground with awe:
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:
In splendor and in light the Pope passed home.
My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea,
And sought in vain for any place to rest:
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise My feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”
~Oscar Wilde~

The Easter Flower

Far from this foreign Easter damp and chilly
My soul steals to a pear-shaped plot of ground,
Where gleamed the lilac-tinted Easter lily
Soft-scented in the air for yards around;
Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf!
Just like a fragile bell of silver rime,
It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief
In the young pregnant year at Eastertime;
And many thought it was a sacred sign,
And some called it the resurrection flower;
And I, a pagan, worshiped at its shrine,
Yielding my heart unto its perfumed power.
~Claude McKay~