Saint Eule Poems
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 forehead.
You did not cry, we picked up a maple seed and spun in the air ...
Pawns Of Refuge
Pawns of refuge, rooks lay in wait - the game was played, who took the bait. Our true beginnings lost in the sand, ebony or ivory a promise in hand? Does it really matter the color of skin or the heart of the man that is planted within.