Under the wood.

It's Easter time, that time of year, remembering you were here.

30 years, that's half a life!!, then suddenly no you!!

and oh, what a torturous ride, for those last few,

and oh, what incredible things, they did to you.

Spring forward, bursts with life again, a contrast oh so stark,

Its 3 pm, life all but gone, why is it so dark.

Daffodils are just like day, Sun yellow, shining bright,

The clouds rolled in, it soon became, dark as very night.

Buds burst from wood; new growth is formed.

The blood-stained wood, the dripping thorns.

Lambs a frolic, jump and run,

Death in the darkness where is the son,

There came a shout, 'Eli, Eli',

'It's finished now', the Saviour's cry,

A final poke confirmed the worst,

as blood and water flowed,

The curtain torn, from top to toe, as grace to all bestowed.

And that's the end, as many say,

But watch this space, and come what may .....

© 2025 Barry Wadhams