Eggs were certainly bigger then! Even this year compared to last year, eggs are not so big! I wonder what's going on?Blessings, Star
Ahhh, Willow poetry on Easter Sunday, what a blessing!Have a great day! Hope you find the most eggs.S♥
Happy Easter Willow.I love you version of the hunt!
And the hunt is on.....hope you find the golden egg!
nice response willow. can i say this: it's not the size of the symbol but how you use it. ha!! steven
Fun Easter remembrance.
The chicken eggs I remember from childhood were smaller. My country was poor, the chickens did not fare any better than the humans when it came to food.Your poem, as always, is wonderful. Wishing you a joyous Easter.
You never fail to delight Willow.There's a short story here conveyed in three stanzas
wonderful magpie willow...love the air of reminiscence in this one...and the battle to capture the eggs...
Dear Willow, What an original and evocative posting which in so few lines conveys a world of meaning and recalls a time which, in all probability, will be no more. I did feel that the image of 'sweated bullets' was very powerful indeed.
Ohhhhh! How apt! The hunt, the battle. Lovely!
Lovely post! I can so remember those days....What fun! Our hunts were typically on church property!! I have not really thought that through until now!Linda
Really liked this willow. Happy Easter!
How cute! I'm sure the eggs were bigger too.
Good one, Willow! You the . . woman!
were the eggs bigger or is it just that we were smaller?
Suki, I think it's just that we were smaller. I remember the eggs fitting in my hand like a baseball!
LOL! I love this post! Yes, things were different in the 50's. Ha
As usual, I had to write mine first and THEN come look at yours. I needn't have worried - you were off on a totally different aspect than me. I loved the visual of you going to war in the battle for eggs - reminds me of my nephews when they were young (of course, my mother put MONEY in plastic eggs for them, so there was more on the line!).
Love the saucepan egg hunt! Happy Easter!
Dear Willow, Happy Easter,wonderful writing..yvonne
Oh my...I've just discovered your blog through Brabourne Farm. When am I going to get any work done now! A feast for all the senses.
What a wonderful poem to take me back to childhood and all its imaginings! Rick
I'm not sure if eggs were bigger or just that, with the eyes of children, they seemed that way. Lovely poem.
Great memories with the Unks. Our grandkids used platic bowls this weekend for their hunting of the eggs. Then they hid them for us to find, so this dear Unk was still hunting eggs this year : )
Earlier today we were sitting out watching some very small children hunting for eggs. It made us sad our children and grands are all grown now. No egg hunts but I always have something for them. It was a beautiful day. Your poem is amazing.QMM
Pots and pans at the ready... the hunt is on!
Who knew kids need a full metal jacket for hunting chocolate eggs? It's a battle out there, these are chocolate eggs you're talking about! You must have brothers or, like me, defied description and climbed trees, etc. Glad you got into the strategy of the game. Sounds like you held your own Willow! Excellent piece; so much said in so few words takes fine art egg award! Do you have the hx on the Russian egg..so intriguing! Beguiling! Do tell!
Ah, the taste of the hunt! A charming story!
Chicco, the painted egg is one of the things WT brought back from his many trips to Russia.
Happy Easter, Willow! Love the poem. Thanks for that.
I LOVE your header, your poetry--todo!
Directly ready to be cooked? What hopes could have the hens for their stolen progeny?
Pots and pans would be my container of choice too.
Happy Easter Willow :)
Willow Loved the use of three different stanza's woven together -- and especially in that catchy middle verse "Baskets? Not in the 50s.Those were for sissies. . ."Joanny
Love this, Willow.
So nice, where your muse led you with this one! Hoping your Easter eggs this year were all the right size.
Hello Willow,Happy Easter Monday! I hope you're not overcome by too much chocolate. The eggs definitely were bigger then, despite the fact that we were so much smaller. And, do you know, I've never been in an egg hunt. I had a deprived childhood!
I feel the same way...the eggs are SHRINKING!Lovely poem.
Willow, we were indeed like an army, heading out on the hunt! And we were tough (as in my Easter poem)--every year a fight broke out over the Prize Egg or the most eggs. This poem makes me smile!
That is the funniest tale about Easter egg hunting ever! :-)Saucepans must have been smaller back then, I'd say. I watched hens when they were laying eggs back when I was a child, and I am sure they are still as crafty at producing them as they were back then! At least the ones that are allowed to run free and scratch for bugs. ;-)
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OH, what a wonderful, wonderful poem. The imagery is perfect! I have written a little poem and now have to muster the courage to actually post it tomorrow!!!
Thank you for this lovely journey back in time, Willow. I think eggs are about the same. We just categorize them differently.
Pots and pans instead of baskets...I love that. I hope your Easter was as wonderful as your poem.
"Ample for a regiment": ample for an ending. =)
We used to roll ours down a hill at a golf course. Never had a hunt, sadly. Love your poem.Kat
Precious!Hope you had a lovely Easter!
Hmmm - that marvellous battle imagery. What were you kids going to do with those Easter eggs anyway?
boy oh boy...this place is lookin' pretty darn slick.love it.
Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence. ― O. Henry (and me)