Tulip Eggs (Poetry)

Almost edible, each candy pink confection
a capsule formed to fascinate and tease,
they lean, close-lipped, in synchronised perfection,
hide pollen-sweet surprises for the bees.

The slanting sunlight infiltrates each wrapping,
reveals a glowing chamber at its heart,
sees through the thin-skinned petals' overlapping,
their soft shells swollen, poised to burst apart.

A clutch of eggs, their pastel shapes symbolic,
they've shrugged off winter's shroud and graveyard grime,
escaped from all that's dark and melancholic
and held their secrets tight until it's time.

And then they crack, hatch out in their full glory,
scatter colour, brighten the dull earth
with small reminders of the Easter story -
every one a token of rebirth.