Death of a Daffodil

Oh you brave young daffodil,
Sprouting from stone-cold ground,
Dreaming that warmer, brighter days
Of sun shall soon be found.

But nay, too early thou hast come,
Oh, eager naivety,
And now a storm of tardy snow
Has stolen thy bud, shamefully. 

Frosted and haggard, thou reemerge 
From inches of white flakes freed,
But death too strong has taken hold
O’r which you can’t succeed.

And yet your bulbs beneath the earth
Remain stubborn, strong,
Hardly waiting for the frost to thaw
To regrow into a throng. 

Ageless Echoes

Did God really say
-Surely not, surely not!-
Eat and you will die?
You will not, you will not!

So eat of it they did,
-Say it not, say it not!-
Plaguing us all
They brought us sin’s rot.

Millennia of waiting
To be brought, to be bought,
A life-debt owed,
Blood brought, blood bought.

The creator came to earth,
Sin’s spot, he had not.
He lived and he died,
Th’ devil’s plot, Jesus fought.

Then on the third day
Mary sought, as we ought,
And found that he was raised.
Blessed thought! Doubt it not.

Forever we are free.
In His name, there’s no shame,
Let us, you and me,
Spread his fame like a flame.