Sonnet No.32 Good Friday Poem by Panmelys

Once, below a time, quoting Dylan,
Growing up in Wales, meant Good Friday -
Was so special: more sacred even than Sunday -
Today, like many other things, it's long began
To disappear; like chapels; or the hot-cross-bun
Such strong reminders of the cross, and way
God's son gave up his life; so kids had better pray -
No pleasures: just holy manners, all too human!

Where kids, green and golden followed Him out of grace -
Echoes, once more of Thomas in Fern Hill:
Like Easter singing festivals and Spring bonnets.

Changed worlds; where customs vanish: leaving no trace -
Except for artists and poets; whose skill
Donates to futures, works of art, as well sonnets!

Panmelys 3rd April 2015