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Poetry Pleases: The Easter Garden

Brian Jenkinson presents a poem for Easter Day.

In the darkened garden
Mary stood alone,
Burdened with the question,
Who would move the stone?

Walking down the pathway
In the morning gloom,
Saw the open doorway
And the empty tomb.

Mary, standing weeping,
Heard soft footsteps pass
Slowly down the garden
Through the dewy grass,

Thought it was the gardener.
“Kind sir,” she implored,
“If you know, please tell me
Where they’ve laid the Lord.”

“Mary,!” was the answer,
Gladdening her ears,
Lightening her sorrows,
Banishing her tears.

“Go tell my disciples,”
Christ the Saviour said,
“You have seen and heard me
Risen from the dead.”

In the bright-lit garden
Mary stood alone:
Now the sun had risen
And the night had flown.


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