The armoire’s form was wooden, strong, and tall
while holding drawers with jewelry to enthrall;
two anxious hands did try to swiftly find
some earrings to wear with Easter in mind.
“My cross earrings aren’t here, which really is weird.
Could they possibly have just disappeared,
like Jesus did years ago on Easter day
when He didn’t with death in a tomb stay?”
“I’ve seen so many miracles in our world;
your golden earrings could have somewhere whirled,
but perhaps they’re in a tough place to find
because you have so much jewelry entwined.”
"I'm thankful for all of the things we own,
and I love wearing earrings so well known
as being symbols of Christ's sacrifice,
which saved us by paying for our sinful vice."
Like a lot of my writing, this poem is partially based on my own reality. I sometimes cannot find the earrings that I want because I have so much jewelry in such small places. I'm really thankful for having a lot of jewelry to choose from.