The empty cross stuns His beloved
Sadly they turn away
Grief-stricken, shocked, homeward they trod
With nothing left to say
Their Lord and Master crucified
Before their very eyes
Then taken to the tomb where guards
Protect their ‘lifeless prize’
And did his followers replay
Yesterday’s hate-mad hours
And wonder why He held at bay
His miracle-rife powers
So much they do not understand
So much they can’t explain
Did they mistake the words He said?
Did they believe in vain?
Duty and love bid them begin
The tender tasks of death
The spices for the body and
Tears mingled with each breath…
© Janet Martin
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