Be it what may
It’s a public holiday
Perhaps you didn’t know
Choc eggs are not the go
In the land of my birth
They celebrate rebirth

The son of a chippy
Himself bit of a hippie
Barefoot he walked
Savings he talked

To anyone afflicted
Full healing predicted
Noble values and morals
Dissolved all quarrels

Then he spoke of salvation
Through his family relation
His words fell on dead ears
Forsaken by his peers

Undergone a foot soak
Last dinner was a joke
Burdened by a chunky wood
Nobody then understood

Didn’t put up a fight
Staying true to his light
Having had a strong will
His message remains still

Come on now it is not funny
To celebrate the Easter Bunny
Hot buns with sweet white cross
Compensate for greater loss
Thorny wreath and bunch of nails
The devil is in details