Pappy's going to be gone for a few days. I may not get back in time to post for St. Patrick's day. So in honor of my Irish side I'll leave you with a poem honoring St. Patrick. ST. PATRICK
clovers and Leprechauns,
singing and dancing to old
Celtic tunes.
the parish of Maewyn,
the bishop, converter, till 461.
March 17th, the day of his death
we celebrate now in secular mirth.
Captured at sixteen by Irish marauders,
sold into slavery,
a Welshman by birth.
He escaped after six years and
fled into
where he studied with monks
Christianities’ tenets,
and fourteen years later he
answered the call.
Bishop to
he preached and converted.
Resisted by Druids,
arrested, escaping,
building schools,
and churches.
Metaphorically chasing,
the snakes from the land.
Maewyn the pagan,
St. Patrick, the Christian
served thirty years in
his mission to
His vision,
to see his captors set free.
Dennis Price
