Saint Eule

Rookie - 10 Points (10/30/1955 / Shamokin, Pa)

Saint Eule Poems

121. The Oag 8/21/2011
122. The Old Dog Cannot Run 6/2/2012
123. The Palm Reader 9/4/2010
124. The Pharoahs Stuff 6/10/2013
125. The Picnic Table 5/7/2011
126. The Point Of A Compass 1/30/2011
127. The Porcupine 2/13/2011
128. The Shark Smells Blood 4/30/2011
129. The Silver Haired Surfer 4/11/2011
130. The Songbird And The Cricket 5/7/2011
131. The Sparrow In The Palm 12/6/2011
132. The Spider Is The Guest 5/5/2013
133. The Teapot Is Calling 2/13/2012
134. The Tern And The Eagle. 9/6/2010
135. The Tiger Smells Blood 4/23/2011
136. The Timbrel Music 2/8/2012
137. The Toads Revenge 2/16/2012
138. The Underground Prophet 6/4/2011
139. The Unholy Salesman 9/4/2010
140. The Union Was Busted 6/18/2011
141. The Wedding Embrace 12/28/2011
142. The Widows Broom 6/12/2011
143. The Wind Blows Softly 8/18/2011
144. The Winter Mouse 11/14/2011
145. The Wish Of The Little Blue Spruce 12/14/2011
146. The Wolf And The Happy Meal 5/14/2011
147. The Yellow Sweater 10/14/2010
148. Those Red Letter Words 10/1/2011
149. Threads Of Horace 3/31/2012
150. Tinsel Tears 6/28/2011
151. Tornado Test 1/9/2011
152. Turn The Light On 9/2/2012
153. Upolu Point 10/23/2011
154. Urbs Or Burbs 7/30/2011
155. Walking On Vitamins 9/2/2012
156. When The Last Wave Meets The Sand 2/8/2012
157. Where The Goblins Roam 4/13/2012
158. Why Does The Willow Weep? 5/26/2012
159. Wiggly Giggly 10/3/2010
Best Poem of Saint Eule

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 ...

Read the full of Autumn With Grandpa

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.

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