God comes all sweetness to your Lenten lips as pure fasted faces are drawn to this feast.
You, whom the East striped in secret with breath-taking whips, those crooked rough-scored chequers may be sewn to crosses intended for Jesus
With a draught of thin, relentless cold that nips.
Inhale Easter right now; you're securing fellowships.
God will o'er-brim the measures you have spent with oil of joy for sackcloth and frieze when your vigil-keepers' low fires diminish.
And the punishment's ever-fretting shirt
Give golden folds with myrrhy threads ease.
Your thinly clad bones are tired of being bent; yet, God will fortify the weak knees.
About the Creator
Odubo Ukam
I am a poet, I mix my words as much as I want to pass my heart out to my readers
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Comments (2)
Nice one
Love it