I Met A Friend Beside The Cross

I Met A Friend Beside The Cross ~ for Michelle

I met a friend beside the cross
Up on The Green on Easter Day
And she was there to mourn a loss
And I was passing on my way

Now she and I, we only meet
Infrequently throughout the year
But there we were; a meeting sweet
And meaningful, before the dear

Beflowered cross the people made
And posies in all colours bright
Where all day long the people prayed
Or stayed to see the way the light

Did shine upon the Field that day
As shone before high on the hill
And some go on and some will stay
To pray, and will be praying still

And so we spoke, my friend and I
Of love and life, and of her loss
And of the mystery of why
We met together by the cross

And I went on, and left her to
Her sorrow, and when I was gone
She did what she had gone to do
Adore the cross with flowers on

Who knows His ways? Not she or I
But Oh! What beauty was reborn
Up on the Field beneath the sky
Before the cross on Easter morn

© Gail Foster 5th April 2021

Easter Sunday; Devizes


for John (Ted) Dexter


no cars on the road

all of the town sofa bound

food lulled and sleeping

walking home, a man

evensong’s slow gentle peace

on him like monks’ robes

old man and poet

meet in quiet communion

by the graveyard gate

souls of the same shade

in unspoken fellowship

watching the birds fly

on the bridge, silence

white blossom, silver water

Easter Sunday light


© Gail Foster 17th April 2017

Granny’s Easter Buns

Jenny's Hot Cross buns


Grandad says that Easter isn’t funny

You won’t find him at parties

Dressed up as the Easter bunny

He’ll not be scoffing chocolate eggs

Or anything like that

He’ll be putting on his Sunday best

And dusting off his hat

For Grandad is an Anglican

Of serious intent

Does bible study when he can

And gave up cake for Lent

He says that Jesus died for me

And I’d best not forget it

But seeing as I’m only three

I’m sorry, I don’t get it

My Granny, now my Granny, mind

She has a different view

She leaves me little eggs to find

In places like my shoe

The smell of Granny’s hot cross buns

Is paradise and bliss

She makes me little special ones

Topped with a tiny kiss

Granny says God loves me

As she makes my Easter bonnet

With a smile as she carefully

Sews flowers and bees upon it

Let Grandad do religious stuff

The crucifixion thing

I’m only really old enough

For Granny, and the Spring

Grandad’s back from church now

Saying “Jesus rose for you”

“Well, bless us all” my Granny says

“The buns are risen too”


by Gail











Strange Simony


St. Cuthbert's Island


For Good Friday


Another man

Another plan

Hung on a

Godforsaken tree

One dread kiss

And then

Was this

Eternal calumny

How bitter

Seems the glitter

Of dark silver


No shining glory

In this story

Just shame

And death

For all to see

In the daylight

And with hindsight

Could not there

Light and mercy be

For it was writ

This would be it

That all these things

Would come to be

The portrayal

Of his betrayal

Haunts our own


No kudos

For poor Judas

Only lonely



by Gail