The Lady At The Jewish Bakery Poem by Raymond Farrell

I have read many books, seen many credible documentaries and in fact, my very 1st boss(I was 19) was a Holocaust Survivor...A polish nurse smuggled him out a back door of an examining room, and gave him directions to this long, dirty river where he swam for almost 12 hours into Russian and American troops who sheltered him while he recovered from the beatings he took on a daily basis for several months. Such anathema....and, now,70 years later...we have Isis! Excellent penning, Ray...Depictive, and effulgently pictorial. ~FjR~

i Googled moove flowers and Google suggested mauve (light purple) flowers. hmm? i never heard of moove, but, then again, PH does say you are from CANADA! ! I ENJOYED this poem. to MyPoemList. well done. i wonder how many readers will 'understand' the reference to tattoos on...her wrist? so, the lady served 'a lot more' to you than bagels and rugelach! ! yes, rugelach is one of the FEW things i miss from my first (of four) marriages; i got rugelach at her parents' home! bri ;)

A wonderful read Raymond. Lucky the lady was to have survived, smiling because she knew how precious life is and how important it is to be kind to people for who knows what stories lay behind their masked faces.

Beautiful heartfelt story poem...funny as a 9 yr old I always picked up the Sunday bread roles from the title of your poem..the smell fabulous [1945]not very long after the world and I knew of the holocaust...since and to this day I love the Jewish race and their kindness...regards

A study of true empathy Great write Thanks BB

I thought only Jewish people cared, felt the pain, had their heart torn out by these disgusting and mortal deeds against the Jews, persecuted, no crime committed but still condemned to death. Now I know, that poets do have certain feelings that others don't because for most their hearts beat differently that the rest. I thank you, Mr. Farrell for this deeply moving poem. When, I was a child my piano teacher also had numbers tattooed on her wrist. As I learned to play the noblest of instruments, I kept thinking how can things that call themselves human have committed such crimes, all crimes against the innocent included. Your poem made me cry, yes they were tears of pain but also of joy to know and see that a holocaust survivor, could inspire such a wonderful poem with so much compassion and human feeling. I thank you.May your kind soul be blessed.