On a limb was this lyric etched
By leprechaun in rune & sketch.'
T'was not bawdy;But sober in tone
From this wistful soul Who lived alone
To good Saint Patrick he made a plea
From the trap of treasure deliver me,
In crock & jar I have full trove
Yet never am I to leave this grove.'
For the wicked witch left me much in gold
Upon her death, from a maudlin cold
Now I'm being held by the love of greed
And could not be pulled free; by the greatest steed.'
Yet I've read that God has made a plan
That I see regards a woman & man
But Leprechauns are a different breed
That trace descent from the shamrock seed
I'm aware your day is soon to dawn
So I plea your help on the coming morn
I need a loving sylph in green
To lead me in love, to the modern scene.'
I repent of my former punk rock days
When I followed many a fad & craze
Yet I have this idea you can make a case
With God above who is full of grace
I beseech in hope, I need more faith.'
Yet if its not to be, my will I'll brace
Let me not languish, though; so folorn...
Just an old 'punk-crocker' tired & worn.!
Copyright © Joe Maverick | Year Posted 2017
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