Below tulips tortured by frost,
the eggs of Easter lay in wait
for tiny hands to imprison,
petals shed as innocence lost.
Birth is the antidote to hate,
from shriveled stem life christened.
The sun makes good on promises;
the bunny’s sure path arisen,
a gay and festive springtime gait.
Discover hope despite the costs;
faith will find fruition.
© khartless 2022, All Rights Reserved
Cover Art: Glass Gallery
I did not intend to pen a sonnet this Saturday amidst the Easter egg hunt and time with family, but this arrived. A Curtal Sonnet, with the scheme: abcabc dcbdc. Cute little curtail just like Peter Cottontail, don’t you think? Feedback welcome.
Happy Easter, K.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You as well, Misky. 🦋
LikeLiked by 1 person
This was such an uplifting piece sprinkled with delightful pictures of hope. Wonderful contrast between the seasons! 🙂 Hope you have a cracking Easter ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, Tom. Easter is warm and fragrant from the daffodils. No cracking yet, but we’ll that bunny hops by this evening. Hope your Easter is filled with colorful surprises. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
How sweet. Happy Easter
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, VJ. Happy Easter to you and your family.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“petals shed as innocence lost.
Birth is the antidote to hate,” – love these lines!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, ever so much Sunra. I find sonnet’s constrictive, a bit like a corset, but still, things can look pretty once it’s finally on.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love that analogy! I feel the same way about sonnets and corsets but would still indulge in both!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed. There is a time and place for everything. 💜
LikeLiked by 1 person