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Songs & Poems For Easter


Written by Irving Berlin 

In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,
You'll be the grandest lady in the Easter Parade.
I'll be all in clover and when they look you over,
I'll be the proudest fellow in the Easter Parade.
On the avenue, Fifth Avenue, the photographers will snap us,
And you'll find that you're in the rotogravure.
Oh, I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet,
And of the girl I'm taking to the Easter Parade.


His Precious Blood

As Jesus hung upon that cross,
He thought of every sinner lost.
And, as He bowed His head down low,
His precious blood for us did flow.

Although the soldiers spit in His face,
Still willingly, He took their place.
And, with a crown of thorns plait on His head,
"King of The Jews," His title read.

But, He said, "Father, please forgive them;
For they know not what they do."
And, as His blood flowed like a river,
Their sins were covered by His blood, too.

So, let's remember His sacrifice,
Forgiving those who took His life.
And, let's remember, as we pray,
The precious blood He shed that day.

John 19:17-18
And He bearing His cross went forth into a place
of a skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha.
Where they crucified Him and two others
with Him, On either side one, and Jesus
In the midst.

© 2003 by Vickie Lambdin

~ Lamb of Calvary ~

Precious Lamb of Calvary,
The world knew not Your sacrifice.
Yet, You hung upon the tree
That all might know eternal life.

As each gasping breath You took,
Your thoughts centered on the lost.
Forgiveness overshadowed pain.
Love kept You on the cross.

You came, You died, yet, rose again.
Your Spirit the grave couldn't hold,
Lifted to the heavens
Just as the prophets foretold.

Death's grip, forever, has been loosed.
It holds no power o'er me.
Christ paid the price and claimed my life,
Blessed Lamb of Calvary.

© 2003 by Marie Williams


~ It Was Love ~

It was love that placed Him on the cross,
Our sins He chose to bear.
To redeem us from the hellish grave,
It was love that kept Him there.

He walked the lonely road, called life;
Ridiculed and hated by man.
Yet, love worked its perfect work.
It was love which caused Him to stand.

It was love that gave Him eyes to see
What beauty the future could hold
In a soul redeemed by His glorious grace.
So. He stayed there. His gift to bestow.

It was love that raised Him from the grave,
Interceding for those left behind.
The same love, now, will deliver from sin,
Heal the sick, and give sight to the blind.

It was love, precious love, of the Father and Son.
What more could they possibly give?
Shed blood, on the cross at Calvary,
Sacrificed that we might live.

© 2003 by Marie Williams


His Cross Became My Crown

Long before I knew Him, I begrudged having to go to Church;
Sitting by a little brook, beneath a crooked limbed old birch.
But, one night, I felt His voice and I heard the Minister say,
"If you want to go to this lovely place called Heaven, this is the way."

I bowed to the Master, asking Him to come into my own heart,
‘Cause never, in my life span, did I want this feeling from me to part.
I saw, in my heart, the old rugged cross He bore up a hill, that day.
And, I cried, "Lord, I give my life to You and I will ever stay."

So, He crowned me with glory and His Cross became my crown,
Because I want to be with my Savior, in Heaven, and hear the angels sound.
I asked for His mercy and, upon my heart He very lovingly did bestow,
A crown of Glory born of a Cross he carried, as upon a hill He did go.

My crown was paid for by Jesus, as He hung and for my sins died.
When I really realized this, my heart bled and I hung my head and cried.
"Lord Jesus, forgive me. Though, naught did I do, way back then."
But, since I received my crown, I know Jesus died for every sin.

He will show us the way to glory, every step and every prayer of the way.
He will lead us to victory, again, every time we err and go astray.
The old cross was the burden that we all thank Jesus for, today.
For, He took our punishment. He earned, for all of us, an eternal stay.

© by Pearlie Duncan Walker


A Crown of Thorns

There was, upon this earth, a Savior
Who came to cleanse and heal.
He wore a crown of thorns upon His head,
Our souls to ever seal.

He gave up the crown of Glory
That was rightfully His, that day ~
That He came to earth to give
Unto all men, a glorious stay.

He put aside His own sweet crown,
His signet ring that day,
That, maybe, all would come and walk
In His dear righteous way.

He loved us with a love so pure.
On His head He wore a crown of thorns,
That His love would cleanse the world
And man could be reborn.

Mighty is the name of this Savior,
Jesus. He redeemed the day
For all who would accept Him
And walk along His righteous way.

They hung Him upon an old rugged Cross,
A thief on either side.
But, the day He comes back, again,
He’ll take us to be His bride.

If we give our Hearts to Him
Who bore our shame on Calvary’s Cross,
Though we’ve sinned o’er and o’er,
We’ll suffer no loss ...

But, only if we claim Him as Savior
And are not filled with shame.
Then, that fateful day, in Glory,
He’ll proudly proclaim our name.

This is the love of one so dear ~ 
That He suffered agonizing pain
So, when this life on earth is over,
Through Him, we’ll be joined again.

By His tender mercies and pain
Of a crown of thorns upon His head,
He will raise us up to Glory, as was He
After they pronounced Him dead.

© 2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker



Here Comes 
Peter Cottontail 

Here comes Peter Cottontail
hoppin down the bunny trail,
hippity hoppin, Easter's on it way

Bringin ev'ry girl and boy
a basket of Easter joy
things to make your Easter bright and gay

He's got jelly beans for Tommy
Colored eggs for sister Sue
There's an orchid for your mommy
and an Easter bonnet too. Oh!

Here comes Peter Cottontail
hoppin down the bunny trail
hippity hoppity Happy Easter day

Look at him hop and listen to him say,
"try to do the things you should"
Maybe if you're extra good
He'll roll lots of Easter eggs your way

You'll wake up on Easter morning
and you'll know that he was there
When you find those choc'late bunnies
that he's hiding ev'rywhere. oh!

Here comes Peter Cottontail
hoppin down the bunny trail
hippity hoppity Happy Easter day 

April Showers

Verse 1: Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here's the point that you should never miss.

Chorus: Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May.
So if it's raining, have no regrets,
Because it isn't raining rain, you know, (It's raining violets,)
And where you see clouds upon the hills,
You soon will see crowds of daffodils,
So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.

Verse 2: I have learned to smile when skies are gloomy,
Smile although my heart's about to break,
When I know that trouble's coming to me,
Here's the happy attitude I take.

Chorus: Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May.
So if it's raining, have no regrets,
Because it isn't raining rain, you know, (It's raining violets,)
And where you see clouds upon the hills,
You soon will see crowds of daffodils,
So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.

"The Cross"

The Cross! The Cross!

Where Holy Blood all down did flow,
Where people stood on Holy Ground and did not know,

Where angels gasp and closed their eyes,
And foolish men, believing, became wise.

The Cross! The Cross!

Where love divine and bitter gall would meet
And tears would flow, not for Himself, but me ...

Where even nature wept and trembled through,
Where darkness fell, with force, ere night was due.

The Cross! The Cross!

Where Satan laughed and thought that he had won.
But, Christ knew, when the deed was done,

It would not be the devil’s victory.
It would be souls that He, Himself, set free!

The Cross! The Cross!

The ugly plan of men to bring most pain
Has brought, instead, for us a Heaven’s gain!

The symbol of a horrid death depose and
Fill my heart with treasure, Christ well knows.

The Cross! The Cross!

The insidious sign, now made so beautiful, the loss - ultimate gain ...
The Son of God dead, but alive, forever more the same!

I cannot look upon the cross but know,
There is no measure of the love that flows.

There is no measure of the strength of blood.
Oh, Holy Blood, sweep o’er me like a flood.

© 2002 by Joan Clifton Costner

Silent Witnesses

The stones and the trees felt hopelessly lost,
As they watched Jesus stumble and fall with His cross.
His burden was heavy, and God knows He tried.
But in the absence of mercy, they broke down and cried.

Now, the stones whispered low and exclaimed to the tree,
"Blood dripped from His feet and fell upon me!"
Then, the trees bowed in silence, as Jesus emerged.
For, they too had witnessed, as He was beaten and scourged.

Said the tree to the stones, "I feel shamefully used.
For, His hands, nailed to me, were all mangled and bruised."
Then, Jesus was buried and, after three days, 
Guarded by angels, arose from His grave.

The stone said, "I served at Our Master's gate.
Protecting His body, while thieves lay in wait.
Like a soldier on duty, I stayed there for days,
Until God's sacred angels gently rolled me away."

Many Blessings: Happy Easter:
© 2001 by Vickie Lambdin


Never saw you look
Quite so pretty before
Never saw you dressed
Quite so lovely what's more

I could hardly wait
To keep our date
This lovely Easter morning,
And my heart beat fast
As I came through that door...for

In your Easter bonnet
With all the frills upon it,
You'll be the grandest lady in 

I'll be all in clover,
And when they look you over
I'll be the proudest fellow in 

On the Avenue, Fifth Avenue,
The photographers will snap us
And you'll find that you're in the rotogravure.

Oh, I could write a sonnet
About your Easter bonnet
And of the girl I'm taking to 

Easter Parade By
Irving Berlin (Copyright 1933) 

For God so loved the world, that He gave His only
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him should
not perish, but, have everlasting life. John 3:16 

The Tale
Three Trees

Upon a green Judean hill,
A forest stood - majestic;
Open to the wind and rain,
By God alone protected.

"What will you be, my little tree,"
The mother tree inquired?
"A cradle for a wee baby,"
And he smiled a quaint tree smile.

"And you, my child, what is your dream"
The mother tree continued?
"A gallant ship with white sails lit
And a King upon my venue!"

"My quiet leaves, what hope is yours"
The mother asked her last one?
"To stand all day and point the way,
That men may find our God, Mom."

And so, upon the hill they stood,
While sun and storms assailed them.
Strong and tall, they grew in size.
One day, men came to fell them.

With a rustling sigh, the first tree fell.
It's limbs were stripped and numbered.
A manger in a stable-barn,
They built with its good lumber.

And God, Who loves the little trees,
Whispered, "Oh, be cheerful.
For, patience is rewarded well."
Still, the little tree was tearful.

"My dream is lost! My hope is past,"
The little tree lamented.
But, one starry night, in Bethlehem,
A baby was presented.

And, oh, the purest loving joy
Engulfed the small tree-manger.
He knew Who he cradled, in his arms;
Though, to the world, a stranger.

Men came again and took a tree. 
They drug it to the seashore.
A crude, plain fishing boat they made.
It knew 'twould never be more.

"I've lived in vain! My fondest hope
Is lost, now and forever,"
The little tree in sorrow sailed!
It's dream so cruelly severed.

But God, Who loves the little trees,
And knows their fondest wishes,
Said, "Oh, have faith. Your hold won't be
Forever filled with fishes!"

One day, a Special Man came by.
A crowd of people followed.
They pressed Him, ever close, to hear
His words, precious and hallowed.

He stepped into the tiny boat
And taught the people saying,
"Seek not the riches of this world.
Where is your treasure laying?"

The second tree knew, on it's deck,
The Son of God stood teaching!
No greater royalty he'd hold,
No greater truths men reaching!

And out up hillside green, 
When Spring, again, was bursting, 
The third tree stood majestically,
Saying to all men thirsting,

"I point to God, Who cares for all,
Who's sending you a Savior!
And this, my faithful servitude,
I'll point to God forever!"

Then, came the rough and scornful men,
With axes swinging wildly,
Into the third tree's heavy bark
They sunk the blades, not mildly!

"Oh! This can never, ever be,"
He cried in silent sorrow!
"Father, how shall I point to You
For those who come tomorrow?"

With angry hand the tools employed
And tore away his branches.
Hauled into Jerusalem, he lay
Naked ... silent ... anxious.

And God, Who loved this little tree,
Looked down in sorrow, knowing.
He whispered, "Sweet peace," even then,
When both their tears were showing.

Into a cruel, ugly, cross
The little tree was fashioned.
Nails were driven through the hands
Of Someone hung, with passion.

A jeering mob, a Savior's blood,
A mother's heart was broken;
The earthquake and the thunderings ...
A final word was spoken.

Laid vainly in a borrowed tomb,
God's Son had made the purchase;
Freely laying down His life,
Fulfilling Heaven's purpose.

A brutal and a blood-stained cross,
That lifted high the Savior,
Became a precious emblem that 
Each one of us holds dearer.

No other tree is so revered,
No other so endearing.
No other tree has shown the way
To millions, now, God fearing.

Upon a green Judean hill,
A forest stands, now praising.
A God, whose loving sacrifice
Shows only grace, amazing!

© by Joan Clifton Costner

Simon of Cyrenian
(Mark 15:21)
I Didn't Stop

I didn't stop to pick you up.
You looked so shabby and unkempt.
There was blood smeared all down your face,
And everyone scorned you with contempt.

All who knew me would not approve,
If I had shown you any mercy.
So, I stood aside and let you fall.
As all the rest, I did not care at all.

The cross you bore, that day, was heavy.
Your body in pain, it weighed you down.
Your knees gave way and you fell to the earth.
And, the pain in your head was from the thorny crown.

I couldn't watch. So, I took to flight.
I saw your mother beside the road.
The man, called "Peter", was in disguise,
And I looked for a place, a safe abode.

I could find no solace in my heart or soul.
The sadness and sorrow, no longer could I bear.
So, to this path of sorrow and pain I crept.
As, I was chosen to carry your cross up there.

You looked at me, with your soft loving eye.
Your cross became light and the path was made bright.
We came to the place where the cross would be placed.
'Twas then, in your face, I saw truth and the light.

Then all your pain and suffering,
You endured just for me ...
That I might have life abundant
Not only here, on earth, but for eternity.

For there, as you hung in agony,
You asked your father above
To forgive us for what we were doing.
For, you were giving your life for love.

Now as I turn my face from Calvary,
I know my name is on your roll.
For now I have life eternal,
And your cross now, will carry my soul.

© by Leslie M. Willson, Sr.

Last Words

Our Savior, Lord, was crucified.
We hung Him from a tree.
We drove a nail in both His hands,
But He blamed neither you or me.

We crowned Him with a thorny crown.
We pierced His heart with a spear.
We drove a nail through both His feet,
But not a sound of pain could we hear.

Then from the cross He spoke aloud,
And asked God to forgive us for what we did.
In mortal pain He prayed for us,
And for our souls His life He bid.

A thief was hung on either side,
And to the one He said.
This day you will be with me in Paradise,
But for the other He hung His head.

Now from the cross He saw His Mother,
And John was standing by Her side.
Then to His Mother, He said, "Behold thy son."
And to John and us, He gave His Mother
Before He died.

"My God, My God. Why hast Thou forsaken Me?"
He uttered with a cry.
"The sins of man are so great this day,
And they make my mouth so very dry.

I thirst for the souls of every man.
I have drank the cup My Father gave.
The sins of man are with Me now,
And I'll take them with Me to My grave.

It is finished. The pain is gone.
My task on earth is done.
I'll release the souls that have gone before,
Because I am Your loving Son.

Unto You, my Father, I command My spirit."
We have given Heaven to the Heavenly Host,
And the angels in heaven are now rejoicing
With the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.

© by Leslie M. Willson, Sr.

The Cross

None awoke at Gesthemane.


None who'd carry the cross.

Only Loved

None to be a help meet.


None who'd stand at all cost.

For What

None to be an intercessor.

He Could

None who cared for his soul.

Do For

None by his side at all.


Ro.5:8, I Jn.4:19

© by Joyce C. Lock


By His Stripes

Jesus, (nailed on the tree)
Battered and bruised for you and for me;
Jewels and diadems should have been on His head.
He wore a crown of thorns instead.

Bleeding, beaten, to endure such pain;
And all of it for mankind's gain.
Grace unfolded in untold measure;
To some it was loss, others, heaven's treasure.

In His death and resurrection, all God's demands were met.
Every one should be grateful Jesus didn't reject
Laying down His life for you and for me.
By His stripes, we were healed when He hung on the tree.

© by Kathi Toups


An Innocent Man

They came into the garden
And they took Jesus away,
Bound Him up with chains,
Plotted to take His life that day.

He was sent down to Pilate,
Who found Him an innocent man.
But because of pride and envy,
Jesus was still condemned.

He was taken by soldiers,
A crown of thorns placed on His head.
They laughed and spat upon Him,
All the while that His head bled.

They brought Him to Golgatha
And nailed Him to a cross.
Soldiers gambled for His clothing.
People stood around and mocked.

He cried out to God His Father,
As His life's blood drained away.
Then He gave up His spirit,
Bowed His head, and died that day.

There was a soldier standing
At the foot of the cross.
When he saw how Jesus died, he said,
"Truly this was the Son of God."

© 2000 by Myra Wood


Holy Blood

He walked the way to the garden -
And blood fell in that place;
Bounded before the rulers,
His blood streamed down His face.

No mercy, grace or pardon
Was granted to Him, here.
But, God was, then, providing
The price for all the years!

My sins were, there, upon Him;
Blood red, then sparkling white!
My hope in Him, eternal,
Brought Heaven into sight!

How can that bright red blood make white?
I do not understand.
But this I know, we'll never need
Another sacrificial lamb!

He is so very beautiful,
More worthy than any words.
I cannot think of the abyss,
Were His name never heard!

The tomb is but a vacuum,
Drawing earthly souls to Him!
The blood has done it's mighty work
And we are cleansed from sin!

© 2000 by Joan Clifton Costner


Peter Cottontail

Here comes Peter Cottontail
Hoppin' down the bunny trail,
Hippity hoppin', Easter's on its way.

Bringin' ev'ry girl and boy
A basketful of Easter joy
Things to make your Easter Bright and gay.
He's got jelly beans for Tommy
Colored eggs for sister Sue
There's an orchid for your mommy
And an Easter bonnet too. 

Oh! Here' comes Peter Cottontail
Hoppin' down the bunny trail
Hippity hoppity Happy Easter Day

Look at him hop and listen to him say,
"Try to do the things you should"
Maybe if you're extra good
He'll roll lots of Easter eggs your way.

You'll wake up on Easter morning
And you'll know that he was there
When you find those choc'late bunnies
That he's hiding ev´rywhere,

Oh! Here' comes Peter Cottontail
Hoppin' down the bunny trail
Hippity hoppity Happy Easter Day.

~by Gene Autry~ 


Twice You Are Mine

A beautiful little boat, I made.
I whittled it out of wood.
Sanding and painting it,
I made the rudder good!

I took it to a stream to see
How sea-worthy was my boat.
But, the current swept it away from me.
Though, it was still afloat.

I ran by the bank and watched it go -
That beautiful boat that I loved so.
At last, I found I could follow no more
And guessed that it crashed on some distant shore.

In a storekeepers window, I passed it by -
That same little boat I had made!
I ran inside and examined, again,
Every detail my hands had laid.

"It's my boat! It is mine!" and I told the clerk
The story I just have told you.
But he said, "Now it's mine and a price is affixed.
There's nothing more I can do."

So, I gathered my coins and counted them twice.
I bought it again and paid the full price.
I treasured the boat I had formed with my hands.
Gladly, I paid for my treasure, again.

God dipped down His hand and gathered some clay,
Just dust by the road of life.
He fashioned a man in the image of God -
He fashioned the man a wife.

He gave them a will of their very own
And made them a perfect day.
But, they stumbled and fell, and started for Hell,
From the garden driven away.

But God, in His Love, sent His Son, from above.
He lived as a man and taught of God's Love.
He portrayed a God we could see and feel,
A God we could know for sure was real.

Then, Satan sneered, "These are mine, You see.
They belong to me, every one!
A price is affixed and it's so very high
That no one can pay, not one!"

So, Jesus took thirty-nine stripes and a crown
Of thorns that pierced His head.
He carried a rugged old cross on His back,
All the way up the hill, He was led.

He paid again, so dear the cost!
For, the treasure He loved, that had looked so lost!
And, the act of His love waits acceptance from you.
What else, dear friend, can Jesus do?

© by Joan Clifton Costner

It's Friday

Friday ... and the cold, dark shadows
Fall across a weary land;
Lengthening, at last, those shadows
Rest upon a bleeding hand.

Friday ... and the storm He silenced
Falls with fern on the earth!
Friday ... can this be the payment
Needed for my second birth?

Friday ... will it last forever?
Can the world e'er be the same?
Have they washed away forever
E'en the trace of Jesus' name?

Friday ... and the evening shadows
Steal within my aching soul.
Friday, with despair, depression
Telling me I am not whole.

All my hope seems dead forever.
Then, within my silent gloom,
Shines a far and distant glimmer.
Is it coming from a tomb?

Sunday's coming! All those shadows
Will be flooded with His light!
Sunday's sure! ... And Heav'n rejoices
As they see the garden sight!

Sunday! - Oh, my heart is flying!
Yes! The victory is won!
Sunday! Sunday! We are victors
For the work on Friday done!

© by Joan Clifton Costner

What Would You Give?

If help had vanished and love were lost,
Hope turned to sorrow before a cross,

Songs gave way to cries and screams,
Children were lost (as well as their dreams),

Fire and flood had taken its' toll;
What would you give in exchange for their soul?

© by Joyce C. Lock



If 'ere ye be self will denied -
Though through the fire, one's faith is tried;

The aching heart about to burst,
Or blisters form in plight of thirst,

And from the stripes no flesh remains ...
God's promises are still the same.

© by Joyce C. Lock


Would You?

Would you die for Jesus,
The way He died for you?
Or, would you bow your head
And say, "This, I can't do?

What if Jesus, Himself, said
To His Father, up above,
"Why do I have to die for them?
They lack in Faith, and Love?"

What if our Heavenly Father said;
"Son, I'll spare you from the cross.
You don't have to perish
For the sinners that are lost."

It would be sad, for all of us,
To look into the face
Of our Father, up above,
Without His Saving Grace.

God could have said,
"I don't think it's wise
To punish My Son,
For their wicked demise."

But, I'm so glad
That God told His Son,
"It's a huge sacrifice.
But, it has to be done."

For God loved us so much,
He let His Son take our place;
When He died on that cross,
For the whole human race.

Easter's when Jesus
Arose from His grave,
Sacrificing His own life,
So that we could be saved.

© 2002 by Vickie Lambdin


Gods Only Son

He was God's only Son, who came here, for us, to go to Calvary.
It was the only way to wipe away our sins and win the victory.
He was wounded for our transgressions, bruised for our sin,
And it's with His stripes, Oh Lord, that we are healed and well again.

He shall grow up as a tender plant, a root out of dry ground.
It is said, 'He hath no beauty we should desire.' But, a Savior I have found.
He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, I read,
And from Him men's faces were hid. Let us plant good seed.

He offered up His dear life to pay for our sin on Calvary, that day;
Walked up a hill, with thorns in His head, for our sins He went to pay.
I love Thee, Oh, my Lord. Thank you for taking away death's sting.
And, in believing in His only Son, true freedom it will bring.

Thank you for bearing my grief, when Thou were not esteemed by man.
You carried our sorrows. We esteemed Him stricken, smitten, in the land.
All like sheep have gone astray. Even as He gave His life, all went away.
He was oppressed and afflicted, and opened not His mouth a word to say.

He conquered evil, through the Cross, upon Calvary that awesome day.
So, let us pick up our cross and follow in His footsteps, all the way,
Looking for a brighter tomorrow; up there with the Father and He,
Who bore the heavy old cross and gave His sweet life, there at Calvary.

© 2001-2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker



More Poems

Spring Garden
Easter Sunrise
Mom's Easter Peom

I am repentant of my sins,
I believe Jesus is The Christ,
I believe I've been redeemed by Him,
I believe He paid the price. 

But, I have this problem speaking out,
What do people want to hear?
Unless they directly question me,
I do not volunteer. 

I hesitate to open up,
Of that, I am not proud,
I don't revel in my quietness,
But, why can't I speak aloud? 

Am I ashamed of anything?
What keeps me from speaking out?
What do I fear from other folks?
What's my silence all about? 

Are you disappointed, God?
I know that you must be,
I feel bad about it, too,
I pray you'll pardon me. 

Give me courage. Give me strength,
I know what I should do,
Believe me, dearest Father,
I am not ashamed of you. 

The shame I feel is for myself,
Forgive me. Hear my plea,
These fears to speak out that I have,
Are much too much for me. 

But, how can you forgive me, God,
If I don't do my part?
I promise to try harder, God,
I love you with my heart. 

Help me to speak in your behalf,
The words you want to hear,
Help me to speak of you - from love,
And not to speak - from fear. 

Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
copyright 2001 

Let Me Remember... 

On Easter morning as I awake,
I recall memories that make me quack,
For long ago on Calvary,
My Jesus died to set me free;

I'll never really understand,
Why God made such as a wonderous plan,
That When He saw a humble man,
Jesus fulfilled God's perfect plan;

The Crown of thorns upon His head,
The blood that for my soul He shed,
The cries of pain and agony,
It was all to set this captive free;

In life and death he bore my pain,
To make a way that life I'd gain,
And when He comes for us again,
The plan of God will be made plain;

Those nail- scarred hands and feet,
Were all for us to stop defeat,
For now our soul can soar with Him,
The final Battle we will win;

My eyes will I lift to heaven above,
To catch a glimpse of God's divine love,
Our flight will end in heaven I know...

Author Loretta Jane Moore


There on Calvary

It was there. upon Calvary, three Crosses stood;
Made of spite and jealousy, from the hardest wood.
Our Savior hung there, amongst common thieves,
As the ones who loved Him looked upon Him and grieved.

This was the Savior hanging on an old Cross, that day,
Thorns and spikes taking all His precious blood away
To wash away the worlds' sins. If only they would believe,
Open up their hearts to Him, into His Kingdom He'd receive.

He said, "Eli, Eli, Lama Sa-bach-ni." That is to say,
'My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken me this day?'
But, as He gave up the ghost, the veil of the Temple was rent in twain
And the saints who slept awakened, went into the city again.

He spilled His precious blood, for you and me to be born again.
It ran down the hillside, that day. There were earthquakes and rain.
Joseph took the body of Jesus and laid Him in a tomb, away,
So none could steal His body. But, He arose the third day.

He rose to Glory, to sit upon the sparkling Holy Throne, forever.
When we give our life to Him, our soul He will not sever.
We will walk the streets of gold, eat from the tree of life that day;
When He comes for His bride, forever with Him to stay.

© 2001-2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker


He Climbed a Hill For Me

It was a sad day. But, the day was blessed forever, too.
Jesus came in our stead, climbed that old hill for me and you,
He was tired and worn, a crown of thorn about His dear head,
But for us He climbed that old hill, and hung until He was dead.

I Praise His name, he went down in fame, for He left Heaven void for a bit,
That on one grand day when we get there, on a throne we’ll sit,
He left his Father, laid aside His omnipresence along with His signet ring,
That in our hearts we could accept His love and gladness He’d bring.

Instead of a robe of white, he was dressed in scarlet that day,
As he was changing places with you and I, as He climbed the hill that way,
On He went, no water to drink, Blessed Lord what hath they done
To our dear Savior who took up and bore our cross, our freedom won?

He bought my sins, it shames me so, that where e’er He goes I want to go,
Until my life here is done and He calls me to my mansion, my head bowed low,
That He built without hands, but bade it be so that we could be with He,
Who took up that old cross and climbed a hill, all the way to victory.

Thank Thee, Oh, Lord Jesus for laying aside Thy omnipotence to be,
In my stead on Calvary, as you climbed up that steep old hill for me,
Thou art my one and only Savior today, may it forever and ever be,
As I march forward up a hill that I have to climb, that I may be with Thee.

© 2001-2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker


He Laid Heaven Aside for Me

It was two thousand years ago, our Lord took a stand.
He laid Heaven aside for me, left the Heavenly band,
Laid aside His garments of white, His signet ring, that day;
To come to a little town called Bethlehem, to be born and pave the way.

He traded in His crown of diamonds and gold for one made of a bush of thorn,
To wear upon His dear head ... knowing, from the day He was born,
That there would be pain and sorrow from a world full of Satan and sin.
But, He gave up Heaven for a spell, that I might be born again.

He laid aside all that He held dear for me, that day, for you, too.
Though, had it only been one to be saved, He would have done the same, too.
He knew the pain and sorrow. He knew the deceit that did await,
As He laid Heaven aside and made room for you and me at the gate.

This Savior is Jesus and He laid Heaven aside to die on an old cross;
That His bride, here on this old earth, would never suffer loss
But be promoted to Heavens' pearled gates, as we accepted Gods' Son
... Knowing truly in our hearts, this Son of God is the One.

He's Prince of the Heaven He laid aside, so noble and grand,
Knowing all the troubles that awaited Him in this old land.
But, He loved us with a love that's true, that's unsurpassed;
So, when our life is done here on earth, we'll have a true Heaven, at last.

© 2001-2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker


He Died For Me

My Lord came down and died for me, because He loved me so.
Because He did, I will always know to Him I can go;
In times of trouble, or when I can't sleep - way in the night.
Because He died, I have to keep trying, my heart to make right.

He is my Savior. He died for me that I might more fully see
His Holy ways, for all my days, the true way for my life to be.
And since He laid down His dear beloved life, why not I suffer, too,
For His sweet love, His forgiveness, for all the wrongs I do?

Because He died and rose again, that I might live and one day see
All the Glory and all the sweet Holy love, throughout eternity;
The streets of gold, the tree of life, an eternal fountain flowing there ...
For me to see as He bade me, come to Him kneeling in prayer.

Some sweet day, I too will lay down and die. But, not as He.
For He lived and truly laid down and died for you and me;
Salvation to impart, Satan and Hades to take away the keys.
One day, too, He will take away the mountains and all the seas.

Yes, Satan and Hades He overcame, as He died on that old cross;
Making sure, for all who truly claim Him, none will suffer loss ...
None to be ashamed, for our sin as far as the east is from the west, He cast away;
Because He lived and, then, He died for you and me, that fateful day.

© 2001-2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker


He Has Risen

Blessed is this day, forever and ever,
For He has surely risen. 
He carried the old Cross to Calvary.
They tried to, him, imprison.

Oh, the nails in His blessed,
Glorious, hands and side;
A crown of plaited thorns
Upon His head. They did deride.

They gave Thee vinegar, Lord,
Which was riddled therein with sin; 
Never caring or thinking, dear Jesus
How You must have felt within ...

Carrying the old Cross up the hill,
Thirsty and in pain, without a doubt.
Thirty pieces of silver and old Satan
Was what they were about.

Lord, I know You were about Thy Father's business,
To hang upon a tree, 
To make everlasting salvation real
For ones just like me.

They said, "Let Him be crucified."
In a scarlet robe they dressed Thee, 
Not knowing You’d rise
And come back to set us free.

Blessed Jesus, I’m so sorry
For all the pain You had to bear; 
Not just physical, but all the heart of Thee,
When hanging there ...

When the Father had to look away,
Because He cannot look on sin.
And, my Lord, in Your willingness,
You bore all the sin that’s ever been.

When You said, “IT IS FINISHED,”
When the Father had to turn His head, 
They cast their lots with Thy garments,
Lord, after Thou were dead.

And, behold, the veil of the Temple was rent in twain.
It was Thee they tried to use.
But, over Thy head was written,

© by Pearlie Duncan Walker


He Arose in A Cloud

Jesus came to earth and was tortured for so very long.
Then, one day, I realized this and my life became a song.
He was imprisoned for all the wickedness of this old world of sin.
But, God sent His only Son to pardon us, that we might live again.

He came as a man, that He could show us how to live a sinless life.
He climbed a hill bearing a Cross, having so much earthly strife.
Then, he performed miracles for all to see that He was from God, indeed,
And taught many upon a hilltop, as fishes the people He did feed.

His story is long and true, thirty years upon this earth, to save you and me
From our sins, so we might be with this Christ throughout eternity.
His love was a joy, from when a little boy, who amazed the elders in the synagogue
By questions He asked and then answered about his Father, our loving God.

He wore a crown of thorns about His head that day, when He hung upon a Cross.
They scourged Him and beat Him until He bled, for us not to suffer loss.
Nails through His precious hands and feet, Oh, the agony He must have had.
But after three days, He arose to Heaven in a cloud. Praise God, I’m so glad!

If we confess Him, we’ll have our sins all paid, through the sacrifice He made.
From a newborn in a stable to a Savior on the cross, come to me he bade.
He said, "Through me you will have life and it will be more abundantly."
And when I knew He arose in a cloud, I knew I would accept Him through eternity.

© 2001-2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker



There's a raging storm in life, which is very hard to bear;
The strife in life, a constant battle raging there
Over souls of good and evil, with God's help we have to win.
As evil tries to overcome, we just pick up our cross, again.

Go marching on, as did our Savior, when He was accused
Of unthinkable things ... His body and soul, sorely, abused
By these evil men of Satan, the battle to rage on, still,
Angered and determined not to do our Savior's will.

Sometimes, in thinking of all the shame and sorrow which came
To my Lord, tears roll down my cheeks, unashamed.
It breaks my heart in two, to know how some would put Him on a cross
When all He ever did to anger them was to save His children from loss.

That was two thousand years ago. Still, the battle rages on.
But on someday, tomorrow, when all battles are over, the war will be won;
Not by Satan and his helpers, but the soldiers of God's pure love ...
With Him knowing, all the while, His Father was waiting up above.

So one day, the raging will be finished. It's by our own Father's will
That much love, from up above, to the overflowing of our heart's He'll fill.
Marching on to victory, the hill to climb is long and hard.
But, every step will be worth it, when we come into our sweet reward.

© 2000 by Pearlie Duncan Walker



Beneath His wings, I can travel
All over this world and Heaven above.
It's so simple. I just believe He's my Savior
And He fills my heart with love.

I'm beneath His Wing in times
Of trouble, sorrow and woe,
In times of joy and gladness,
In my work, and all the places that I go.

The feeling is so joyous that, through pain
And all, He's there holding me up.
Beneath His wing, it's all possible 
Through His choosing to drink from the bitter cup.

He chose to hang on that old cross
And die for you and me. This, my Lord,
Through His goodness and mercy;
And of His own sweet accord.

Beneath His wing, there's rest and joy,
As though wrapped in a warm white shroud.
Many thanks for the blessings of My Lord,
Who will one day come in a cloud ...

All Omnipresent, Who can carry
All who love Him, beneath His Holy Wing.
Then, one day, tomorrow, when this
Life is done, I will truly His praises sing.

With Omniscient, He did, for all, lay down
His own sweet garment of white,
Along with the signet of His Holy seal,
And willingly went into Satan's darkness of night ...

To cover my sins and all who have sinned before.
He gave up His honor for me,
To lay aside all that was dear to Him.
Humiliated, but willingly, He bore that old tree.

When He went down and took the keys
From the bottomless pit, and arose to prevail,
Two angels did set by His sepulcher,
The stone rolled away, when came Mary to avail.

They said, "Why seek ye the living among the dead?"
And this, to the disciples, Mary told.
So, beneath His wing I'll stay
'Til He carries me away, up to the Heavenly fold.

© 2002 by Pearlie Duncan Walker



The moon was gleaming brightly.
Upon the grass, dew drops did glisten.
'Twas just a while before the twilight,
Makes us want to stop and closely listen ...

To the miracle, there, before us, enfolding
What the Lord has wrought for us to see;
With all the greatness and splendor of His molding,
Of all the land and all the sea.

Just look up. A glittering grand old star
And the clouds and sky, the sun and moon to behold;
What wondrous miracles, up so far ...
All the things for us He made, in His book. we're told.

You see, to Him, it was, for us, a lovely garden
Until old Satan came and entered therein
And, then, man's heart he did harden;
And, in the garden, entered that old sin.

He filled the void with sea, sky, and all the world ...
To make the beautiful garden of Eden for you and me.
What vibrant power our Lord did hurl,
So we might with Him forever be.

He gave His only Son that old cross to bear.
It must have broken His heart, with an awful pang.
So many people without a care, while His Son,
Jesus, for our sins, did on that old cross hang.

© 1999 by Pearlie Duncan Walker


Blood Money

Judas led the angry multitude
To the garden where Jesus prayed.
He kissed his master on the cheek
And, thus, was Jesus betrayed.

They had decided to crucify Jesus
And Judas repented his sin.
Why should they kill the Master,
Lord, and Savior of all men?

He went to the Chief Priests and Elders
And pleaded with an anguished cry.
A kiss betrayed an innocent man,
A man condemned to die.

For a mere thirty pieces of silver,
Judas condemned this innocent man.
But when remorse filled his soul,
He threw down the money and ran.

They, later, found Judas' body.
In the dead of night, he hung
Silently, swaying on the end of a rope.
Forever, still, would be his tongue.

The silver lay strewn upon the floor,
The price of blood it had paid.
It couldn't be used in the temple.
So, a deal on a potter's field was made.

The field was used to bury the poor.
But, the price Jesus paid was high.
I wonder if Judas was buried there.
Did blood money, his grave help to buy?

© by Claytia Doran

Potter's Field: Burial place for the poor.
Matthew 27:7-8

In Our Stead

On that day, so long ago, in our stead,
He walked, for you and me,
Up an old rugged hill, all the way
to the glorious Calvary;
To pay the awesome debt for all men
on earth, that sweet day,
As Jesus came down from Heaven
above, to pave the way.

How much He loved us
is so incredibly divine. We can know
(That, wherever we go on this old earth,
He is sure to with us go,
Once we give our heart and soul to He,
who came down from above,
To implant into our hearts)
all this wonderful, awesome, love.

To follow in His footsteps
would be a gift, of heartfelt love,
To render to our sweet Savior,
who came from high up above;
Walking in our stead for all the sinful
trail of years in our life.
Oh, how it must have pained
our loving Savior, filled Him with strife.

But, He went the way. He saved the day
for all sin that ever was, or will be.
His love overpowered all things,
that He might save you and me.
In our stead, He walked, there,
to the old cross, never halting at all,
That we could come, through Him,
to the Father with only a call.

So, stay behind me Satan. My heart
and soul belongs to Jesus, divine.
For, in our stead, He gave all the love
there is to your heart and mine.
Not flinching, not regretting,
but onward went, each day He led
To take the punishment that was ours.
Our Lord went in our stead.

© by Pearlie Duncan Walker



I Wasn't There, I Didn't See

I wasn't there when they judged Him
And guilty He was found.
I wasn't there when they cursed Him,
While He never made a sound.

I wasn't there when they beat Him
and His blood was flowing free.
No, I wasn't there. I didn't see.
And yet, He did it all for me.

I wasn't there when they crowned Him
With thorns instead of jewels.
I wasn't there when they accused Him
Of breaking all the rules.

I wasn't there when they nailed Him
upon that old rugged tree.
I wasn't there when He bowed His head
And He died on Calvary.

No, I wasn't there. I didn't see.
And, no one uttered a sound.
They watched them crucify my Lord
And His blood drip onto the ground.

If I was there, I would have said,
"I'll take my Savior's place."
Instead, He died, without me,
And, in shame, I hid my face.

I wasn't there. Yet, I knew His love
And why He died upon that tree.
No, I wasn't there to see it.
But, yet, He did it all for me.

© by Claytia Doran



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Spike's & Jamie's Recipes






5-6 Granny Smith apples (make sure they can stand on their own)
1 tbsp. cinnamon
1/4 cup sugar
1 tbsp. brown sugar
pie crust (homemade or pre-made)

1) Preheat oven to 375F.

2) Cut off the top of 4 apples off and discard. Remove the inside of each apple with a spoon or melon baller very carefully, as to not puncture the peel.

If you’re a skilled interior apple excavator, salvage as much as you can so you can use it for Step 2. I, on the other hand, am not skilled so I just had to throw my interior apples away and chop up additional apples for filling.

3) Remove skin from remaining apple(s) and slice very thinly. These apple pieces will give you the additional filling needed to fill the four apples you are baking.

Mix sliced apples with sugars and cinnamon in a bowl. If you prefer more or less cinnamon make adjustments as desired. Same goes for the sugar.

Scoop sliced apples into hollow apples.

4) Roll out pie crust and slice into 1/4 inch strips. You can also add a strip of pastry inside the top of the apple almost like a liner to add a little more texture/sweetness to the pie.

Cover the top of the apple in a lattice pattern with pie crust strips.

5) Place apples in an 8×8 pan. Add just enough water to the cover the bottom of the pan.

Cover with foil and bake for 20-25 minutes.

Remove foil and bake for an additional 20 minutes or until crust is golden brown and sliced apples are soft.

Makes 4 baked apple pies (in the apple).

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It is with great sadness that
I inform our viewers that
Spike left this world
June 2008.

We who love her miss her greatly.


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