These poems reflect both the religious and profane aspects of Jerusalem, its ideal and actual aspect even in terms of real estate prices. Jerusalem the Golden remains to Jew and Gentile an imperishable symbol of the highest hopes and aspirations.

1. THEY SAY THAT IN THE HOLY LAND SO VERY FAR AWAY
https://www.bibleplaces.com/samaritan-passover
The GOOD ---
Candidates may prejudice their grade by skipping any part
of this Fill-in Test
They say that in the Holy Land
so very far away
there really are SAMARITANS
who to this very day
at Eastertide, or round that time, but wait,..
Who comes our way?
Some long-haired wandering type,
I'd guess but let us listen for a jest
to what he has to say.

2. "My names are one and many,
to some I was Jim Crow,
GOOD AFRICAN is what you'd write
if you should choose to know."
"My name is Sean O'Hara,
your old neighbor from the Falls,
GOOD MAN, put down that rifle
before the thing recoils."
"My name is Isaac Mandelbaum.
Your face I mark it true.
It is so clear that you should write
quite plainly THE GOOD JEW."
You are an actor, do admit,
but me you'll not take in.
To change the words of Holy Writ
would be an grievous sin.
I'm sure it says SAMARITAN
in the Bible on my shelf,
but if you do not believe me,
Sir, go read the text yourself.
https://www.google.com/search?q=trump+holding+bible&sca_esv=570917586&rlz=1C1GCEA_enIL898I
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3. Jerusalem the Golden Where Not Only the Holy Tends Heavenwards
O holy city set in gold
of thee both praise and woe are told.
To three faiths the troubled home,
we see the spire, the Wall. the Dome.
Where once did graze the kid and lamb
I behold a traffic jam.
In Heaven's name, oh, tell us why
property prices are sky-high.
O meeting point of East and West,
Thou known to blessing and a curse,
show us less of what is worse
and much more of what is best.
https://www.google.com/search?q=western+wall+jerusalem&rlz=1C1GCEA_enIL898IL898&oq=western+wall+Jerusalem&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbW
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4. Wickipedia: The Holy Land Case
Unbridled Urban Development's Unholy Eyesore
Oh what a pity that in David's great city
they built a skyscraping tower.
the which to describe poor words lack all power.
Those who dwell in its heights
enjoy rapturous sights
of the noble city below,
where those in the pit
who look up at it
are denied a commensurate show.
Now who had the cheek,
if you let me thus speak,
to call this 'the Holy Land'?
If its name had been 'Babel
' I'd be better able
to explain the way things stand.

5. The Tomb of Cyrus, Pasargadae. Iran
https://www.google.com/search?q=tomb+of+cyrus+iran&rlz=1C1GCEA_enIL898IL898&oq=tomb+of+cyrus&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUqBggAEEUYO
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ajBqNKgCALACAA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8
Towards Jerusalem
I have slept in beds of roses,
And walked o’er fields of thyme.
I am called the wanderer
Of every mount and clime.
My back is marked by lashes.
I know the Roman’s scorn.

6. When I stood at the tomb of Cyrus
On a dusty Persian plain,
I saw all realms and empires
Rise up to shine and wane.
This world’s weary ways I know
And shall know to the end.
Once on a Friday morning
I mocked a fellow Jew.
I have borne the gentile’s fury,
I took tenfold my due.
Though mortals put off dying,
I’d don the robes they shun.
When Israel’s sheep were slaughtered,
I cried. “Not they but I
Must breathe the Beast’s foul poison,”
But vainly did I cry.
Whose woes compare to my deep woes,
O you who pass this way?
I am a wise philosopher.
To this one truth I came:
All men and women are different,
And yet they’re all the same.
This is a pearl of wisdom

7. That some for pride distain.
In synagogues and churches,
In mosque and Buddhist fane,
All people of all creeds make moan:
“Come, Lord, Thy kingdom claim,
But wait a little longer, Lord,
While we manage on our own”.
I believe in Zion’s dawning,
Yet I have learned the woe
Of one Jew’s death and suffering.
My sufferings say ‘tis so.
But the offering of millions
Has made poor Atlas groan.
O Shepherd of a scattered flock,
Your words are no less true
Than when David’s house was strong
Or when manna fell as dew.
Refreshment follows weariness
Life death as death this life.

8. I have slept in beds of roses,
And walked o’er fields of thyme.
I am called the wanderer
Of every mount and clime.
I see my path wind upwards
Towards Jerusalem.
Between Jericho and Jerusalem