Saint Eule Poems

In answer to our healthcare,
The Garlic cure was mentioned,
It magical powers amaze us,
Simply an ounce of prevention.
...

The physician studied anatomy,
A flesh and bone model of clay.
She got her degree in the art of healing,
In a pathological sort of way.
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If you were just a tin man,
Like the one in the land of OZ.
No heart to shed a tear with,
A rusty disposition want of cause.
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How the branch grows,
Tiny buds like tiny toes.
Grandchildren laughing and crying,
New life to replenish the dying.
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Captured in an odyssey of time and space,
Cultivated in compassion.
In the endless sea, you found me.
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Isaac Newton captive in observation and mystery;
Saw an apple fall and now the rest is history.
Gravity pulling us downward toward the earth;
We leap upward but return to the place of birth.
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Where does the black snake rest?
In shady cover reveals her nest.
Near the freshly planted field,
Where mice a meal can yield.
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What attracts some to the urban life;
Walk to a library, or shopping with the wife.
Bakeries and smells, peddlers on the way;
or have a glass of wine at a sidewalk cafe.
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Fifty years ago today;
We sold our children's future away.
We were told the economy was sour;
We need to go back to the days of Eisenhower.
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The acorn was given a kippah to wear;
It made him different amongst the seed of the tree.
His kippah was brown, the finest in town.
What a blessing an acorn to be.
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