Denis Martindale Poems
Comments about Denis Martindale
* The Cross Of Christ
The jeering crowd like jackals stood,
To see what must be done.
Though once they thought this man was good,
They didn't see God's Son.
They called Him Rabbi, Teacher, Lord,
Yet now He was Rome's slave.
So all His claims were now ignored,
For who was He to save?
The nails were driven deep inside...
More drops of blood soon fell...
Once lifted, hoisted, crucified,
His life was just like Hell.
Torment and torture lay ahead.
His scourged back stung and bled and bled
As briars bruised His brain.
His mother wept each passing ...
It's Not Long Now!
Each Valentine must show they've cared, as that's the thing to do!
Have you got all your gifts prepared, when saying, 'I LOVE YOU! '?
Have you a poem so sublime that's on your mind again?
Or will you get some hints in time, reminders now and then?
An evening out, booked in advance, has that been sorted out?
Or have you left it all to chance, is there some niggling doubt?
Is there a bracelet made of gold, or necklace, or a ring?
Or some surprise yet to unfold... so you can't say a