Poems of Saint Eule
|141.||The Widows Broom||6/12/2011|
|142.||The Wind blows Softly||8/18/2011|
|143.||The Winter mouse||11/14/2011|
|144.||The wish of the little Blue Spruce||12/14/2011|
|145.||The Wolf and the happy meal||5/14/2011|
|146.||The Yellow Sweater||10/14/2010|
|147.||Those Red Letter Words||10/1/2011|
|148.||Threads of Horace||3/31/2012|
|151.||Turn the Light on||9/2/2012|
|153.||Urbs or Burbs||7/30/2011|
|154.||Walking on Vitamins||9/2/2012|
|155.||When the last wave meets the sand||2/8/2012|
|156.||Where the goblins roam||4/13/2012|
|157.||Why does the Willow weep?||5/26/2012|
Autumn with Grandpa
It was a cloudy day, my grandson pointed at the sky. He said ' the stars are still there you just cannot see them because of the clouds'.
I held his hand and said ' The stars are like the truth often we cannot see it because of the clouds'.
There is nothing more inspiring than a conversation between a grandfather and a grandson.
When you were born, I cried with joy.
My scrawny little boy.
When you took your first october fall.
I picked you up and brushed off a leaf from your