There once was a man named Jesus: 
A carpenter by trade,
Not famed for his chairs and tables,
But the people that he made!
Not with chisel, saw and hammer,
But with words both wise and true
He shaped them for God’s service 
And he showed them what to do.

He said God was his Father
And he his Father’s Son
His deeds, though quite amazing,
Did not please everyone.
Yet normal folk admired him: 
He cared for those in need.
While children he would welcome
And hungry crowds would feed.

His nation had some leaders
Who loved their wealth and power
They plotted how to kill him
And seized him one late hour.
They claimed he was a rebel
And deemed him fit to die
Their governor condemned him
As they yelled: “Crucify!” 

His death was slow and painful:
Nailed to a cross of wood.
He hung there for many hours
Till they were sure he was gone for good.
Once dead he was quickly buried
 In a garden cave nearby. 
His death he himself had predicted, 
But he didn’t deserve to die.

On a Friday it was he was buried, 
But on Sunday his friends got a shock:
The mouth of the cave was wide open,
Because someone had moved a huge rock.
In vain his disciples had entered:
They found Jesus’ body not there!
Who was it that wanted to take it?
If only they knew who and where! 

They’d forgotten his other prediction,
That after he died he would rise.
It must have been hard to believe it, 
Until he was seen by their eyes!
We read their reports in the Gospels, 
Like those penned by Matthew and John,
For those who will choose to believe them,
The impact of Jesus lives on. 

It was very dark in the warren

The bunnies couldn’t see

But mother bunny told them

It was time for them to flee.

Easter was upon them

And eggs were on her mind

She told the little bunnies

Go see what you can find.

Bunnies left the warren

Saw the moon shining bright

They hopped across the paddock

And soon were out of sight.

Mother bunny looked on

As she saw them disappear

Wondered how many eggs they’d find

And when they’d reappear.

The bunnies found a garden

That had eggs galore

They took a small amount of them

To add them to their store.

They continued down the street

And took or placed a few

Evening out the stashed amount

So more children got them too.

The bunnies found a garden

That had eggs galore

They took a small amount of them

To add them to their store.

They continued down the street

And took or placed a few

Evening out the stashed amount

So more children got them too.

As the dawn began to break

The bunnies headed home

They’d worked hard through the night

Leaving their mother alone.

They wanted to report to her

The great job they had done

To see the look upon her face

When they detailed their whole run.

Back inside the warren

The bunnies told their mother

How they’d moved the eggs around

From one place to another.

They hoped they’d given joy

So no one would miss out

Spreading a little love around,

That’s what it’s all about.

Frightening and thrilling 

A purple dash that last seconds

Making mayhem come alive 

Zigging and zagging through the night 

Stealing land during the night

They call him the dark sound

Because of his terrifying sound that forms disaster

Flashing across the city and all the other landscapes

They pray for mercy 

He is a devil throughout the night crafting mayhem upon the lands

Rattling and roaring

And you can only imagine when his friend thunder is on his side

Boom bam they roar together 

They create mayhem together 

They destroy lands together

Lightning and thunder 

They’re just two dark devils 

They’re unstoppable when there both awake 

The urban and rural landscapes have no chance

lightning screams louder when thunders around 

Bang lightning creates unstoppable disasters

That aren’t so natural when lightnings doing it 

Everyone tries to escape but when they hide he always seeks

as the night ends everyone who survived is grateful

but lightning is always waiting for the night

Because when it’s night again they all know lightnings going to create mayhem two times worse than before 

Boom crash crackle lightning is always there.

The library windows opened
all the books flew out in pairs
The school kids sat in wonder
as the librarian became a bear

She grunted and she snorted 
“Get those books back in” she roared
But nothing, nothing could stop them
as into the sky they soared

When days grow short and nights grow long,
trees start to grow a corky layer
that cuts through every leaf-base stem.
Like falling books, unloved, condemned.

No chlorophyll to ink leaf’s page,
green’s superficial stories fade
revealing deeper colour’s signs,
like reading in-between the lines.

Xanthophylls are coded yellow.
Anthocyanins, red-purple.
Carotinoids have orange gowns
while tannins turn their pages brown.

Here’s a lovely link showing all those leafy autumn colours:

https://www.livescience.com/16508-fall-leaves-rainbow-gallery.html