The Eyes of Saint Patrick

New lyrics to an old Irish folk tune

When Patrick’s eyes were crying
he winced at what he saw.
A nation filled with heathens
who broke God’s holy law.
Aware they needed Jesus,
he pointed out the way.
This shepherd of the Irish
cried tears of joy that day.

Then Patrick’s eyes were gleaming
with love for those he served.
A people born in darkness
whose faith was now assured.
He showed them God’s great mercy
and showed us how to care
by making time for others
and learning how to share.

When Patrick’s eyes were closing
as death was drawing nigh,
he welcomed what awaited
for those about to die.
He left this world believing
his work on earth was done
and all because he trusted
in God’s beloved Son.

*the above lyrics can be sung to the tune for “When Irish Eyes are Smilin'”

Good Lord, He’s a Bad Candidate

Why I hope Donald Trump is not the GOP’s nominee

I pledge allegiance to a flag,
not to an arrogant wind bag.
When Trump insists I raise my hand,
my blood begins to boil.

If Trump’s elected we would see
he’d call it Washington, DT.
The White House would be spray-tanned orange
and called Trump Tower South.

In real estate he may be great.
His wine’s okay.
So, too, his steak.
But Donald Trump as President?
Good Lord, that would be bad!

A Spotlight on Spotlight

Why the Boston Globe priest scandal story deserved an Oscar

Spotlight aims a spotlight
on a scandal long ignored
where ‘men of God’ abused the innocent.
The Globe revealed a heinous crime
that reaches ’round the world.
A crime for which the flames of Hell are meant.

When Cardinal Law dispensed cheap grace
and harbored guilty priests,
the Gospel he proclaimed was for the birds.
The Lord reserves a millstone
for those leading kids astray
so we’d do well to heed the Savior’s words.

Let’s ask the Lord to heal the wounds
of those who doubt His love
and cannot trust His Church although they try.
These countless victims of abuse
still languish in their shame
not knowing what’s the truth and what’s a lie.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1895587/

Why Donald Trump Troubles Me

One poetical commentator’s opinion

The Donald acts more like
“the don” of a clan
than one we should trust
with the keys to our land.

He’s flippant, demeaning,
disgusting and rude,
unfeeling, judgmental,
capricious and crude.

His words trump his smile,
his actions his wealth.
While some sing his praises,
I scoff at his stealth.

The world must be laughing
to see us misled.
Enough of this folly
we’ve all come to dread.

When Justice Weeps

What can we learn from Justice Scalia’s unexpected death?

The blindfold of Justice is concealing her tears.
She weeps as she grieves one now dead.
Eight justices join her because their dear friend
could not be aroused from his bed.

Antonin Scalia has left a great void
in his family and in the High Court.
His death’s a reminder that each day’s a gift
and life can be quickly cut short.

We tend to assume that we’ll always have time
to convey to our loved ones we care.
But then without notice death knocks at our door
and catches us up unaware.

God, grace us with wisdom to cherish our days
to accept those we tend to begrudge,
to offer forgiveness to those who offend
while mindful that You are our Judge.