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Best Famous Leprechaun Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Leprechaun poems. This is a select list of the best famous Leprechaun poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Leprechaun poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of leprechaun poems.

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Written by Sylvia Plath | Create an image from this poem

Love Is A Parallax

 'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
 in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
 where wave pretends to drench real sky.' 

'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd
that one man's devil is another's god
 or that the solar spectrum is
a multitude of shaded grays; suspense
on the quicksands of ambivalence
 is our life's whole nemesis. 

So we could rave on, darling, you and I,
until the stars tick out a lullaby
 about each cosmic pro and con;
nothing changes, for all the blazing of
our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move
 implacably from twelve to one. 

We raise our arguments like sitting ducks
to knock them down with logic or with luck
 and contradict ourselves for fun;
the waitress holds our coats and we put on
the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun
 who insists his playmates run. 

Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
 like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
 should inflame the sleeping town. 

So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames
in dubious doorways forget their monday names,
 caper with candles in their heads;
the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in
scattering candy from a zeppelin,
 playing his prodigal charades. 

The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish
in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish
 blessings right and left and cry
hello, and then hello again in deaf
churchyard ears until the starlit stiff
 graves all carol in reply. 

Now kiss again: till our strict father leans
to call for curtain on our thousand scenes;
 brazen actors mock at him,
multiply pink harlequins and sing
in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing
 while footlights flare and houselights dim. 

Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins
and separate the flutes from violins:
 the algebra of absolutes
explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes
that jar, while each polemic jackanapes
 joins his enemies' recruits. 

The paradox is that 'the play's the thing':
though prima donna pouts and critic stings,
 there burns throughout the line of words,
the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion
which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion:
 an insight like the flight of birds: 

Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing
the secret of their ecstasy's in going;
 some day, moving, one will drop,
and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals
only to reopen as flesh congeals:
 cycling phoenix never stops. 

So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells
of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells
 and heavens till the spirits squeak
surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's
bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks
 away our rationed days and weeks. 

Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,
and god or void appall us till we drown
 in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
 the simple sum of heart plus heart.


Written by Lewis Carroll | Create an image from this poem

Phantasmagoria CANTO IV ( Hys Nouryture )

 "OH, when I was a little Ghost, 
A merry time had we! 
Each seated on his favourite post, 
We chumped and chawed the buttered toast 
They gave us for our tea." 

"That story is in print!" I cried. 
"Don't say it's not, because 
It's known as well as Bradshaw's Guide!" 
(The Ghost uneasily replied 
He hardly thought it was). 

"It's not in Nursery Rhymes? And yet 
I almost think it is - 
'Three little Ghosteses' were set 
'On posteses,' you know, and ate 
Their 'buttered toasteses.' 

"I have the book; so if you doubt it - " 
I turned to search the shelf. 
"Don't stir!" he cried. "We'll do without it: 
I now remember all about it; 
I wrote the thing myself. 

"It came out in a 'Monthly,' or 
At least my agent said it did: 
Some literary swell, who saw 
It, thought it seemed adapted for 
The Magazine he edited. 

"My father was a Brownie, Sir; 
My mother was a Fairy. 
The notion had occurred to her, 
The children would be happier, 
If they were taught to vary. 

"The notion soon became a craze; 
And, when it once began, she 
Brought us all out in different ways - 
One was a Pixy, two were Fays, 
Another was a Banshee; 

"The Fetch and Kelpie went to school 
And gave a lot of trouble; 
Next came a Poltergeist and Ghoul, 
And then two Trolls (which broke the rule), 
A Goblin, and a Double - 

"(If that's a snuff-box on the shelf," 
He added with a yawn, 
"I'll take a pinch) - next came an Elf, 
And then a Phantom (that's myself), 
And last, a Leprechaun. 

"One day, some Spectres chanced to call, 
Dressed in the usual white: 
I stood and watched them in the hall, 
And couldn't make them out at all, 
They seemed so strange a sight. 

"I wondered what on earth they were, 
That looked all head and sack; 
But Mother told me not to stare, 
And then she twitched me by the hair, 
And punched me in the back. 

"Since then I've often wished that I 
Had been a Spectre born. 
But what's the use?" (He heaved a sigh.) 
"THEY are the ghost-nobility, 
And look on US with scorn. 

"My phantom-life was soon begun: 
When I was barely six, 
I went out with an older one - 
And just at first I thought it fun, 
And learned a lot of tricks. 

"I've haunted dungeons, castles, towers - 
Wherever I was sent: 
I've often sat and howled for hours, 
Drenched to the skin with driving showers, 
Upon a battlement. 

"It's quite old-fashioned now to groan 
When you begin to speak: 
This is the newest thing in tone - " 
And here (it chilled me to the bone) 
He gave an AWFUL squeak. 

"Perhaps," he added, "to YOUR ear 
That sounds an easy thing? 
Try it yourself, my little dear! 
It took ME something like a year, 
With constant practising. 

"And when you've learned to squeak, my man, 
And caught the double sob, 
You're pretty much where you began: 
Just try and gibber if you can! 
That's something LIKE a job! 

"I'VE tried it, and can only say 
I'm sure you couldn't do it, e- 
ven if you practised night and day, 
Unless you have a turn that way, 
And natural ingenuity. 

"Shakspeare I think it is who treats 
Of Ghosts, in days of old, 
Who 'gibbered in the Roman streets,' 
Dressed, if you recollect, in sheets - 
They must have found it cold. 

"I've often spent ten pounds on stuff, 
In dressing as a Double; 
But, though it answers as a puff, 
It never has effect enough 
To make it worth the trouble. 

"Long bills soon quenched the little thirst 
I had for being funny. 
The setting-up is always worst: 
Such heaps of things you want at first, 
One must be made of money! 

"For instance, take a Haunted Tower, 
With skull, cross-bones, and sheet; 
Blue lights to burn (say) two an hour, 
Condensing lens of extra power, 
And set of chains complete: 

"What with the things you have to hire - 
The fitting on the robe - 
And testing all the coloured fire - 
The outfit of itself would tire 
The patience of a Job! 

"And then they're so fastidious, 
The Haunted-House Committee: 
I've often known them make a fuss 
Because a Ghost was French, or Russ, 
Or even from the City! 

"Some dialects are objected to - 
For one, the IRISH brogue is: 
And then, for all you have to do, 
One pound a week they offer you, 
And find yourself in Bogies!
Written by Lewis Carroll | Create an image from this poem

Phantasmagoria CANTO VII ( Sad Souvenaunce )

 "WHAT'S this?" I pondered. "Have I slept? 
Or can I have been drinking?" 
But soon a gentler feeling crept 
Upon me, and I sat and wept 
An hour or so, like winking. 

"No need for Bones to hurry so!" 
I sobbed. "In fact, I doubt 
If it was worth his while to go - 
And who is Tibbs, I'd like to know, 
To make such work about? 

"If Tibbs is anything like me, 
It's POSSIBLE," I said, 
"He won't be over-pleased to be 
Dropped in upon at half-past three, 
After he's snug in bed. 

"And if Bones plagues him anyhow - 
Squeaking and all the rest of it, 
As he was doing here just now - 
I prophesy there'll be a row, 
And Tibbs will have the best of it!" 

Then, as my tears could never bring 
The friendly Phantom back, 
It seemed to me the proper thing 
To mix another glass, and sing 
The following Coronach. 

'AND ART THOU GONE, BELOVED GHOST? 
BEST OF FAMILIARS! 
NAY THEN, FAREWELL, MY DUCKLING ROAST, 
FAREWELL, FAREWELL, MY TEA AND TOAST, 
MY MEERSCHAUM AND CIGARS! 

THE HUES OF LIFE ARE DULL AND GRAY, 
THE SWEETS OF LIFE INSIPID, 
WHEN thou, MY CHARMER, ART AWAY - 
OLD BRICK, OR RATHER, LET ME SAY, 
OLD PARALLELEPIPED!' 

Instead of singing Verse the Third, 
I ceased - abruptly, rather: 
But, after such a splendid word 
I felt that it would be absurd 
To try it any farther. 

So with a yawn I went my way 
To seek the welcome downy, 
And slept, and dreamed till break of day 
Of Poltergeist and Fetch and Fay 
And Leprechaun and Brownie! 

For year I've not been visited 
By any kind of Sprite; 
Yet still they echo in my head, 
Those parting words, so kindly said, 
"Old Turnip-top, good-night!"
Written by Edna St. Vincent Millay | Create an image from this poem

The Singing-Woman From The Woods Edge

 What should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but the fiend's god-daughter?

And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing, that was christened at an altar,
But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of the Psalter?

You will see such webs on the wet grass, maybe,
As a pixie-mother weaves for her baby,
You will find such flame at the wave's weedy ebb
As flashes in the meshes of a mer-mother's web,

But there comes to birth no common spawn
From the love a a priest for a leprechaun,
And you never have seen and you never will see
Such things as the things that swaddled me!

After all's said and after all's done,
What should I be but a harlot and a nun?

In through the bushes, on any foggy day,
My Da would come a-swishing of the drops away,
With a prayer for my death and a groan for my birth,
A-mumbling of his beads for all that he was worth.

And there'd sit my Ma, with her knees beneath her chin,
A-looking in his face and a-drinking of it in,
And a-marking in the moss some funny little saying
That would mean just the opposite of all that he was praying!

He taught me the holy-talk of Vesper and of Matin,
He heard me my Greek and he heard me my Latin,
He blessed me and crossed me to keep my soul from evil,
And we watched him out of sight, and we conjured up the devil!

Oh, the things I haven't seen and the things I haven't known,
What with hedges and ditches till after I was grown,
And yanked both way by my mother and my father,
With a "Which would you better?" and a " Which would you
rather?"

With him for a sire and her for a dam,
What should I be but just what I am?
Written by Edna St. Vincent Millay | Create an image from this poem

The Singing-Woman from the Woods Edge

 What should I be but a prophet and a liar,
Whose mother was a leprechaun, whose father was a friar?
Teethed on a crucifix and cradled under water,
What should I be but the fiend's god-daughter?

And who should be my playmates but the adder and the frog,
That was got beneath a furze-bush and born in a bog?
And what should be my singing, that was christened at an altar,
But Aves and Credos and Psalms out of the Psalter?

You will see such webs on the wet grass, maybe,
As a pixie-mother weaves for her baby,
You will find such flame at the wave's weedy ebb
As flashes in the meshes of a mer-mother's web,

But there comes to birth no common spawn
From the love a a priest for a leprechaun,
And you never have seen and you never will see
Such things as the things that swaddled me!

After all's said and after all's done,
What should I be but a harlot and a nun?

In through the bushes, on any foggy day,
My Da would come a-swishing of the drops away,
With a prayer for my death and a groan for my birth,
A-mumbling of his beads for all that he was worth.

And there'd sit my Ma, with her knees beneath her chin,
A-looking in his face and a-drinking of it in,
And a-marking in the moss some funny little saying
That would mean just the opposite of all that he was praying!

He taught me the holy-talk of Vesper and of Matin,
He heard me my Greek and he heard me my Latin,
He blessed me and crossed me to keep my soul from evil,
And we watched him out of sight, and we conjured up the devil!

Oh, the things I haven't seen and the things I haven't known,
What with hedges and ditches till after I was grown,
And yanked both way by my mother and my father,
With a "Which would you better?" and a " Which would you
rather?"

With him for a sire and her for a dam,
What should I be but just what I am?


Written by Barry Tebb | Create an image from this poem

Constructions/reconstructions

 I

Living in a land

Where only the dying correspond

I am borne on the wings of love



II

I cannot join in a poem

The interstices of clouds

I watched a lapwing

Hover in the air

Glide in an arc

Veer from the sheer cliff



III

Who shall I meet

On this journey to eternity?

Alone and yet not alone

The dust of immortality

Lies in strangers’ eyes

Girls in all the beauty

Of their youth, old men with sticks

No one afraid of anyone

‘No strangers here

Just friends we have yet to meet



IV

‘Angels Fine English Lace’

This was the post office

In the time of the Brontes

Here the famous manuscripts

Were posted.



V

Perhaps I’ll meet on the pebbled road

Michael Haslam in elfin form

Shape-shifter or leprechaun



VI

One of a gang of Keighley girls

Going clubbing in Leeds put her arms

Round my neck and sang “Won’t you be my lover?”

Eternities beyond Winnicott’s ‘spontaneous gesture’.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things