Only Truly Ever Easter

a poem about Grandma G.

Those same old

Plastic Easter eggs

All hidden with care

Some in the trees

Some in the boat

Hidden everywhere

It was only

Truly ever Easter

When all of us

Were gathered there

Playing games of

"Red Rover, Red Rover ..."

With bellies full

Of Grandma's fare

Jim Lonsdale Poetry 2026

Author's Note

Just remembering one of the few bright points of childhood

Reviews

[Michael Sun Bear]

Just lovely Jim. In my childhood those egg hunts were followed by a huge dinner that my mother and aunt cooked all morning, making sauce, drinking sauce. There would be 12 to 15 relatives around the long table, all the leaves brought from a closet.

[Desert Knave]

Thanks. The adults all piled up to the big table, and us kids had folding tables. I miss those days, but only Grandma wanted to do the work, so when she could no longer do it, Easter was over. ~Jim