Poem
Easter Sonnet - Thursday

On to Friday
Back to Sunday
A room upstairs prepared for us, waiting,
The meal paused while we cleaned ourselves of grime.
The master wears a towel educating,
And says "It must be this way at this time."
Water splashes from the bowl, as he cleans
The feet of those gathered there this long night.
We eat the lamb and bitter herbs, it means,
The betraying one is gone from sight.

Keeping watch in the olive grove, the stressed,
Praying man, sweating blood, while sleeping three.
A flashing sword, a misplaced ear, arrest!
Accusations, witnesses disagree.
Convicted, condemned by those who oppose.
Then at the last denial, a cock crows!
On to Friday
Back to Sunday
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Christian Poet This is part 1 of a 4 part work - the Easter Sonnets